LIBK^RY 


I'BIXCETON.  y.  ./. 


Ao.  Case, 

No.  Sk'lf,      __ 

No.  Book,      4^ 


HISTOEY 


THE    OLD    COVENANT 


FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF 

J.    H.    KURTZ,    D.  D., 


PROFESSOR  OF  inEOLOGT  AT  DOEr.VT. 


VOL.   I. 


TRANSLATED,  ANNOTATED, 

AND 

PREFACED  BY  A  CONDENSED  ABSTRACT 

KURTZ'S   "BIBLE   AND   ASTRONOMY," 

CT  THE 

REV.   ALFRED   EDERSHEIM,  Ph.D., 

AUTIIOK  OF  "  HISTORY  OF  THE  JEWISII  NATION  ;"    TRANSLATOR  OF  "  CHALTBACS'  HISTORICAL 
DEVELOPMENT  OF  SPECULATIVE  PHILOSOPHY,"'  ETC.,  F,TC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
LINDSAY    AND    BLAKISTON. 

1859. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  not  only  with  the  feelings  common  and  natural  in  a 
Translator  towards  the  original,  or  a  writer  towards  his  autho- 
rities, that  we  introduce  this  volume  to  the  theological  readers 
of  G-reat  Britain  and  America.     A  repeated  perusal  of  its  con- 
tents has  convinced  us  that.it  is  one  of  the  best  contributions 
towards   the  explanation   of  the  Old   Testament  with  which 
Germany  has  enriched  our  common  theological  literature.    Com- 
prehensive and  trustworthy  in  its  information,   exhaustive  in 
point  of  research  and  learning,  fresh  and  vigorous  in  thought 
and  style,   throughout  marked  by   sobriety   and   good  sense  ; 
above  all,  thoroughly  evangelical  in  its  tone,  it  may  safely  be 
recommended  as  a  text-book  to  the  student.     Even  where  we 
differ  from  our  Author — as  on  some  points,  we  franldy  confess, 
is  the  case — ^liis  views  deserve  and  require  careful  examination. 
In  our  days  and  circiunstances  a  thorough  and  believing  inves- 
tigation into  the  claims  and  the  teaching  of  the  Word  of  God  is 
more  than   ever   necessary.      Such  studies  will  be  materially 
aided  by  the  fresh  Hght  which  Dr  Kurtz  has  been  able  to  shed 
upon  an  important  part  of  the  Bible.     It  may  be  proper  to  add 
that  the  translation  has  been  made  from  the  second  German 
edition  (1853),  and  that  the  notes  added  by  us  have  been  ren- 
dered necessary  by  the  progress  of  Biblical  investigation  since 
the  date  of  its  appearance.     They  bear  chiefly  on  the  literature 
of  the  subject,  and  have  been  supphed  in  ^dew  of  the  minimum 
necessary,  not  of  the  maximum  desirable. 

AYe  have  prefaced  the  volume  by  a  condensed  abstract  of 


M  PREFACE. 

Dr  KuRTZs'  "  Bible  and  Astronomy,"  a  work  in  which  he 
endeavours  to  harmonise  the  Biblical  accoimt  of  Creation  and 
of  man  -vsath  the  results  of  Astronomy  and  Geology,  and  which 
may,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  strictly  introductory  to  the 
"  History  of  the  Old  Covenant."  When  we  say  that  we  have 
condensed  585  pp.  of  the  original  (4th  ed.,  Berlin  1858)  into 
130  pp.,  the  reader  will  understand,  and,  we  hope,  make  allow- 
ance for  the  difficulty  of  our  task.  At  the  same  time,  we  venture 
to  think  that  we  ha"\^e  not  omitted  any  one  part  or  argument 
likely  to  interest  or  to  be  useful  to  British  readers.  We  have 
endeavoured  to  give  all  that  is  introductory  to  a  "  History 
of  the  Old  Covenant,"  and  that  in  the  very  language  of  the 
Author,  though  we  have  condensed, his  phraseology.  We  shall 
only  add  that  Dr  Kurtz's  scheme,  without  committing  ourselves 
to  particulars,  seems  to  us  the  only  sufficient  and  satisfactory 
solution  of  the  Geological  and  Astronomical  difficulties  connected 
with  the  Mosaic  account  of  Creation. 

May  this  work,  in  its  present  form  also,  aid  those  who  make 
the  Old  Testament  a  subject  of  critical  study — above  all,  may  it 
he  the  means  of  laying  open  more  of  those  hidden  treasures  which 
the  Head  of  the  Church  has  deposited  in  the  Sacred  Volumes  ! 

ALFRED  EDERSHEIM. 

Old  AnERnrEN,  Decewher  1858- 


CONTENTS   OF   VOL,   I. 


THK  BIBLE  AND  ASTBONOMY. 


Chai'ter    I. — Biblical   View    of    the    Origin  and  History   of   the 
Universe,  ..... 

^  1 .  Origin,  Purport,  and  Character  of  tlie   Biblical  Account  of 
Creation,         ..... 

^  2.  Revelation  of  tlie  Biblical  Account  of  Creation,     . 

?  3.  Prophetic  Character  of  the  Biblical  Account  of  Creation, 

§4.  Limit  and  duration  of  the  Creative  clays, 

if;  5.  Creation  of  Heaven  and  Earth, 

I  6.  State  of  the  J'^arth  previous  to  the  Six  Creative  Days, 

g  7.  The  First,  the  Second,  and  the  Third  Creative  Days,     . 

g  8.  The  Work  of  the  Fourth  Day, 

g  9.  The  Work  of  the  Fifth  and  Sixth  Days, 
g  10.  The  Primeval  History  of  Man, 
§  11.  Position  and  Task  of  the  First  Man, 
§  12.  The  Tree  of  the  Knowledge  of  Good  and  Evil, 
§13.  The  Formation  of  Woman, 
g  14.  The  Fall,  ...... 

g  15.  The  Tempter,    ..... 

§16.  Prospect  of  Redemption,  .... 

§17.  The  Morning  Stars  and  the  Sons  of  God, 

g  18.  Review  of  the  Primeval  History  of  the  Earth  and  of  Man,    . 

g  19.  Continixation,     ..... 

rsiArxER  II. — Conflict  and  Harmont  uetween  the  Bible  and  Astko- 

NOMT,  ..... 

g  1 .  The  Doctrine  and  History  of  Creation, 

g  2.  Creation  of  the  World  in  Six  Days, 

g  3.  The  Creation  of  Light  before  the  Sun,   . 

g  4.  The  Creation  of  the  Fixed  Stars  before  the  Earth, 

g  5.  The  Creation  of  the  Planetary  System, 

g  6.  The  Celestial  Worlds  arc  inhabited, 

g  7.  The  Angels  as  the  Inhabitants  of  the  Fixed  Stars, 

g  8.  Continuation,    ..... 

g  9.   Inhabitants    of    the    Extra-Mundane    Bodies    of  our  Solar 
System,  ..... 

-g  10.  The  Incarnation  of  God  in  Christ, 
gll.  Continuation,    ..... 
g  12.  Continuation,  ..... 

g  13.  Contiiniation,  .... 

Z   14.   Continnntion.  .  ,  .  .  . 


Page 


IX 

xvii 

XX 

xxiv 

xxvi 

xxix 

xxxi 

xxxvi 

xxxviii 

xxxix 

xli 

xliv 

xlvi 

xlviii 

xlix 

liii 

Iv 

lix 

Ixv 

Ixv 

Ixvi 

Ixviii 

Ixxi 

Ixxiii 

Ixxv 

Ixxvi 

Ixxx 

Ixxxi 
Ixxxii 
Ixxxiv 
Ixxxvi 
Ixxxix 
xcv 


Mil 


CONTENTS. 


§  15.  The  Catastrophe  of  the  End  of  the  World, 
$   16.  Duration  of  the  Present  Course  of  the  Earth, 
$  17.  The  Cosmical  Consummation, 
Chapter.  III. — Geology  and  the  Bible, 

§  1 .  Survey  of  the  State  of  Geological  Science, 

§  2.  State  of  the  Question,  .... 

§  3.  The  Bible  is  not  Incompatible  with  any  Geological  Theory, 

§  4.  The  Bible  does  not  teach  that  the  Earth  was  formed  in  Six 
Days,  ..... 

§  5.  The  Bible  does  not  advert  to  the  Creation  of  the  now  petrified 
Organisms,  ..... 

§  6.  Death  on  the  Pre- Adamite  Earth,  . 

§  7.  Palaeontology,  ..... 

§  8.  Origin  of  the  Petrified  Organisms  . 

§  9.  Continuation,  ..... 

§  10.  The  Flora  and  Fauna  of  the  Primeval  World, 
§  11.  Continuation,  ..... 

\  12.  Conclusion,       ..... 


Page. 

xcviii 

c 

ci 

civ 

civ 

cvi 

cvii 


cxiv 

cxvi 

cxix 

cxx 

cxxi 

cxxiv 

cxxvi 

cxxix 


I.— INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

The  Old  Covenant,  ...  ...  1 

History  of  the  Old  Covenant,  ......  2 

Relation  between  the  History  of  the  Old  Covenant  and  Sacred  History 

generally,  ........  3 

Character  of  the  History  of  the  Old  Covenant,         ....  4 

Holy  Scripture,         .  .  .  .  ,  .  .  .13 

Old  Testament  Revelation,  .  .  .  .  .  .16 

Sources  and  Auxiliary  Sciences  for  the  History  of  the  Old  Covenant,         .         24 
Literature  of  the  History  of  the  Old  Covenant,        .  .  .  .44 


II.-PREPARATORY  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

Prefatory  Remarks,  .... 

The  Creation  and  Destiny  of  Man, 

The  Fall  and  the  First  Promise  of  Redemption, 

The  Twofold  Tendency  manifest  in  the  Primeval  Race, 

Tlie  Judgment  of  the  Flood, 

Noah  and  his  Sons,  .... 

The  Confusion  of  Tongues  and  the  Dispersion  of  Nations, 

Heathenism,  ..... 


65 

69 

77 

88 

95 

104 

108 

116 


III.-HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

The  Meaning,  Purpose,  and  Goal  of  the  Old  Covenant, 

A. — THE  SCENE    OF  THE  HISTORV  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

Boundaries  and  Name  of  the  Holy  Land,     .... 


125 


120 


CONTENTS. 


IX 


Page. 

The  Jordan  Valley,                .......  132 

The  Western  Highlands  of  Palestine,          .....  140 

The  Sea  Shore,          ........  144 

The  Highlands  East  of  Jordan,         ......  145 

Adaptation  of  the  Holy  Land  for  its  Peculiar  Purposes,     .             .             .  147 
The   Inhabitants  of  the  Land  of  Promise  before  its  Possession  by  the 

Covenant  People,           .....                         .  150 

B. — THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

Descent  of  the  Covenant  People,      ....  164 

The  Great  Periods  in  tlie  Covenant-History.           .             .  171 

FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  COVENANT  HISTORY. 

THE  FAMILY. 

Character  and  Import  of  this  Stage  in  the  History  of  the  Old  Covenant,    .  175 

The  Angel  of  Jehovah,          .......  181 

FIRST  CYCLE  IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  PATRIARCHAL  FAMILY. 


ABRAHAM. 

Calling  and  Pilgrimage  of  Abram,   . 

Abram  in  Egypt,       ..... 

Abram  and  Lot.     Melchisedec. 

The  offering  of  a  Covenant-Sacrifice  forms  the  First  Stage  of  the  Covenant 

Hagar  and  Ishmael,  .... 

Circumcision,  the  Second  Stage  of  the  Covenant, 

Jehovah  visits  Abraham  in  the  wood  of  Mamre, 

Sodom  is  destroyed  and  Lot  preserved, 

Abraham  and  Abimelech,     .... 

Isaac  is  born.     Ishmael  is  cast  forth, 

The  offering  up  of  Isaac,      .... 

Death  and  Burial  of  Sarah.     Marriage  of  Isaac.     Last  days  of  Abraham, 

SECOND  STAGE  IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  FAMILY. 


203 
210 
213 
224 
229 
231 
239 
244 
249 
253 
258 
272 


The  Sons  of  Isaac,     ........       279 

The  Pilgrim-Life  of  Isaac,    .  .  .  .  .  .  .286 

The  Blessing  of  Isaac,  .......       291 

THIRD  STAGE  IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  FAMILY. 


Flight  of  Jacob  to  Mesopotamia, 

Jacob's  Sojourn  in  Mesopotamia, 

Return  of  Jacob  to  Canaan.     His  Wrestling  with  Jehovah, 

Jacob  a  Pilgrim  in  the  Holy  Land, 

Commencement  of  the  History  of  Jogeph, 

Incidents  in  the  History  of  Judah's  Family, 

.Foseph's  Low  Estate, 

Tlie  Elevation  of  Joseph, 

.Joseph  and  his  Brethren, 


307 
311 
320 
338 
347 
353 
359 
364 
.S71 


INDEX  OF  SCRIPTURE  PASSAGES  TREATED  OF  IN  THIS 

VOLUME. 


Fiige. 

Page. 

Gen. 

i.  ii. 

69 

Gen. 

xxiv. 

274 

Gen. 

iii. 

77 

Gen. 

XXV.  1—10, 

276 

Gen. 

iv. 

.  ■      88 

Gen. 

XXV.  11—26,  . 

270 

Gen. 

V. 

92 

Gen. 

XXV.  27,  &c. 

282 

Gen. 

V'i. 

95 

Gen. 

xxvi. 

286 

Gen. 

vii.  viii, 

101 

Gen. 

xxvii.  1—29, 

291 

Gen. 

viii.  20 — ix.  17, 

.       104 

Gen. 

xxvii.  30 — 40, 

299 

Gen. 

ix.  18,  &c. 

106 

Gen. 

xxvii.  41 — xxviii.  10, 

301 

Gen. 

X.  xi. 

.       108 

Gen. 

xxviii.  11,  &c. 

307 

Gen. 

xii.  1—9, 

203 

Gen. 

xxix.  1—30, 

311 

Gen. 

xii.  10,  &c.     . 

.       210 

Gen. 

xxix.  31 — XXX.  24, 

314 

Gen. 

xiii. 

213 

Gen. 

XXX.  25,  &c. 

317 

Gen. 

xiv.  1—16,     . 

.       215 

Gen. 

xxxi. 

320 

Gen. 

xiv.   17,  &c. 

218 

Gen. 

xxxii.     - 

323 

Gen. 

XV. 

.       224 

Gen. 

xxxiii. 

335 

Gen. 

xvi. 

229 

Gen. 

xxxiv.    . 

338 

Gen. 

xvii. 

.       232 

Gen. 

XXXV. 

342 

Gen. 

xviii.  1 — 1,5, 

239 

Gen. 

xxx\ni.  1 — 11, 

347 

Gen. 

xviii.  16,  &c, . 

.       241 

Gen. 

xxxvii.  12,  &c. 

350 

Gen. 

xix.  1—26, 

244 

Gen. 

xxxviii. 

353 

Gen. 

xix.  27,  &c.    . 

.       247 

Gen. 

xxxix.  xl. 

.      359 

Gen. 

XX.  xxi.  22—34, 

249 

Gen. 

xii.  xlvii.  13 — 26,     . 

364 

Gen. 

xxi.  1—21,     . 

.       253 

Gen. 

xlii. 

371 

Gen. 

xxii.  1—10, 

2.58 

Gen. 

xliii. 

375 

Gen. 

xxiii. 

.       272 

Gen. 

xliv.  xh'. 

.       379 

THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY, 


AN  EXPOSITION  OF  THE  RELATION  BETWEEN  THE 
BIBLICAL  COSMOLOGY  &  NATURAL  SCIENCE. 


THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


CHAPTER  I. 
BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  ORIGIN  AND  HISTORY  OF  THE  UNIVERSE. 

§  1.    ORIGIN,  PURPORT,  AND  CHARACTER  OF  THE  BIBLICAL  ACCOUNT 
OF  CREATION. GEN.  I. III. 

The  Scriptures  open  with  an  account  of  the  primeval  history 
of  the  Earth  and  of  Man.  In  respect  of  its  important  bearing 
upon  Theology  and  science  generally,  its  depth  and  compre- 
hensiveness, its  fundamental  character  and  its  wide  application, 
probably  few  other  portions  of  Holy  Writ  can  bear  comparison 
with  it.  It  also  presents  a  gi-eat  many  points  to  guide  and  aid 
us  in  our  present  investigation.  This  section  of  the  Bible  must, 
therefore,  form  our  starting-point,  to  which  in  the  course  of  our 
enquiries  we  shall  again  have  frequently  to  recur.  But  for  our 
present  purpose  we  must  first  seek  to  gain  a  clear  view  of  the 
character  and  import,  of  the  origin,  position,  and  object  of  this 
narrative. 

Even  a  cursory  perusal  of  these  tliree  chapters  of  Genesis  wiU 
convince  us  that  they  consist  of  two  distinct  sections.  The  first 
of  these — embracing  chs.  i.  and  ii.,  1 — 3, — gives  an  account  of 
th^origin  of  the  universe,  or  in  the  language  of  Gen.  ii.  1,  of  the 
origin  "  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  all  the  host  of  them." 
The  second  section — from  ch.  ii.  4,  to  the  close  of  ch.  iii., — is 
intended  to  detail  the  history  of  the  FaU,  its  causes  and  conse- 
quences, its  antecedents  and  results.  It  is  because  the  results  of 
the  Fall  are  here  mentioned,  that  this  portion  of  Scripture  forms 
the  basis  of  aU  succeeding  sacred  history,  while  its  account  of 
the  causes  of  the  Fall,  at  the  same  time  connects  it  %vith  the 

a2 


IV  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD, 

preceding  section,  which  gives  the  narrative  of  the  Creation. 
Addressing  ourselves,  in  the  first  place,  to  those  general  questions 
which  may  be  raised  on  both  sections,  we  postpone  the  conside- 
ration of  their  mutual  relation.     (Comp.  §  10). 

The  first  three  chapters  of  Genesis  partly  treat  of  events  which 
are  beyond  the  range  of  human  vision  and  recollection,  and  partly 
refer  to  that  first  and  fleeting  hour  in  the  history  of  mankind,  the 
nature  and  circumstances  of  which  were  entirely  different  from 
anything  which  man  presently  experiences  or  beholds.  What 
view  are  we  then  to  take  of  this  narrative — ^is  it  a  poetical  fiction, 
a  philosophical  theory,  a  tradition,  or  a  piece  of  history  ? 

Poetical  fiction  under  the  form  of  a  narrative  {i.e.  as  the 
relation  of  what  has  taken  place),  is  pure  or  historical  fiction, 
according  as  the  poet  di'aws  the  materials  entirely  from  his  own 
mind  or  only  recasts  and  transforms  what  has  actually  occurred. 
In  either  case  the  historical  form  serves  chiefly  as  a  garh  ;  nor 
does  the  poet  claim  for  his  narrative  that  it  should  be  regarded 
as  a  strict  and  faithful  account  of  events. 

We  cannot  see  any  reason  why  such  compositions  may  not 
also  proceed  from  a  poet  who  writes  under  the  direction  of  the 
Spirit  of  God,  and  hence  obtain  a  place  in  the  Scriptures.  As 
an  instance  of  this  we  mention  the  book  of  Job,  where  a  historical 
or  legendary  subject  is  poetically  elaborated  so  as  to  furnish  a 
kind  of  basis  or  a  framework  in  which  to  present  the  wisdom 
and  knowledge  derived  by  teaching  from  on  high.  But  the 
narrative  in  Genesis  is  quite  other  than  this.  There  the  history 
serves  not  as  the  garb  or  frame,  but  constitutes  the  substance. 
Manifestly  what  is  there  recorded  is  presented  as  a  faithful 
narrative  of  real  events.  This  appears  from  the  close  of  the  first 
section,  in  ch.  ii.  3,  where  the  sanctification  of  the  Sabbath-day 
is  based  on  the  creation  in  six  days  and  the  resting  of  God  on 
the  seventh  day,  which  certainly  implies  that  both  these  circum- 
stances are  to  be  regarded  as  historical  realities.  Again,  the 
whole  cast  and  connection  of  the  second  section  proves  that  it  is 
intended  to  describe  something  real,  and  is  not  merely  a  poetic 
fiction  or  a  product  of  the  imagination.  All  the  subsequent 
books  of  the  Bible  which  refer  to  these  sections  treat  them  in  the 
Hght  in  which  we  have  presented  them. 

We  may,  indeed,  conceive  that  a  writer,  having  other  than 


§  1.  THE  ACCOUNT  OF  CREATION.  V 

merely  poetic  objects  in  view,  might,  for  their  sake,  seek  to  pass 
his  poem  as  history.  Thus,  in  the  narrative  of  the  creation,  may 
not  the  circumstance  that  its  close  forms  the  basis  for  the  law  of 
Sabbath  observance  afford  a  clue  to  its  real  character  ?  May 
some  Jewish  sage  not  have  invented  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis 
in  order  to  trace  this  all-important  institution  to  Divine  authority, 
and,  the  better  to  secui'e  this  object,  have  represented  his  fiction 
as  a  historical  reality  ? 

This  question  of  course  implies  that  we  regard  the  writings, 
the  history,  and  the  institutions  of  the  Old  Testament  as  of 
merely  human  origin.  But  if  internal  and  external  grounds,  if 
the  witness  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the  results  of  study  and 
investigation,  have  convinced  us  that  another  than  man's  spirit 
— even  the  Spirit  of  God — was  concerned  in  the  composition  of 
these  books  and  in  the  guidance  of  that  history,  we  shall  return 
an  immediate  and  indignant  negative  to  such  a  query.  When 
we  understand  that  the  history,  the  teacliing,  and  the  prophecies 
of  the  Old  Testament  point  to  the  incarnation  of  God  in  Christ, 
and  that  in  Him  they  culminate  and  are  fulfilled,  we  cannot  fail 
to  see  how  that  event  amply  confirmed  their  truth.  The  Mosaic 
history  of  creation  formed  the  foundation  of  that  edifice  which 
the  apostles  of  Jesus  Christ  have  completed.  It  is  impossible  to 
believe  that  the  Divine  building  of  Christianity  could  be  founded 
on  a  delusion  or  an  imposture,  however  well  intended. 

Like  poetic  fiction,  philosopldcal  speculation  derives  its 
origin,  though  in  a  different  manner,  from  its  author.  Starting 
from  some  fact,  of  whose  origin,  import,  or  purpose,  neither 
experience  nor  history  can  satisfactorily  inform  us,  speculation 
attempts,  by  reflection  or  suggestion,  to  fill  up  the  gaps  in 
human  knowledge,  and  not  unfrequeutly  presumes  to  claim 
absolute  certainty  for  a  process  of  thinking  which  is  so  liable  to 
error.  The  supposition  that  our  narrative  had  some  such  origin 
has  this  in  its  favour,  that  the  origin  of  the  world  and  of  evil, 
of  which  it  treats,  have  always  been  amongst  the  most  important 
problems  discussed  by  philosophy.  But,  irrespective  of  other 
circumstances,  which  go  against  this  hypothesis,  the  fact  that 
this  record  forms  the  basis  of  the  whole  history  of  redemption, 
and  that  its  accuracy  is  confirmed  in  the  New  Testament,  is 
sufficient  to  bhow  that  it  must  be  far  other  and  far  higlier  tliau 


VI  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WOKLD. 

merely  the  speculation  of  one  who  had  revolved  in  his  mind  the 
great  enigmas  connected  with  the  world  and  with  life. 

A  legend  is  an  orally  transmitted  account  of  something  that 
has  taken  place.  Its  legitimate  province  are  prehistorical  times 
and  events.  The  period  of  history  commences  whenever  an  eye- 
witness or  cotemporary  chronicles  for  the  benefit  of  posterity 
what  has  occurred  in  his  days.  Any  event  not  thus  recorded, 
and  only  transmitted  by  word  of  mouth,  is  called  a  legend.  But 
a  legend  may  originate  in  one  of  two  ways.  It  may  either  be 
traced  by  unbroken  tradition  to  the  time  when  the  event  had 
taken  place — in  which  case  it  really  embodies  historical  recollec- 
tions, however  these  may,  in  the  course  of  time,  have  been 
poetically  adorned  or  transformed ;  or  else  the  link  of  tradition 
has  at  some  period  been  broken,  and  the  popular  mind,  which 
has  a  "  horror  vacui,"  and  abundance  of  poetic  invention  about 
it,  has  supplied  a  fictitious  commencement  to  that  which  has 
really  occurred.  Naturally,  the  next  generation  would  then 
transmit  the  whole  as  a  legend  reaching  back  to  the  time  when 
these  events  had  taken  place.  The  connection  between  our 
narrative  and  the  other  portions  of  revelation  prevents  us  from 
viewing  it  as  a  legend  in  the  sense  just  explained.  But  this 
objection  does  not  apply  to  our  first  account  of  the  origin  of  a 
legend.  It  is,  indeed,  absolutely  necessary  to  regard  the  narra- 
tive as  a  genuine  tradition,  and  as  an  accurate  recollection  of 
primeval  times,  which  had  not  undergone  such  transformation 
as  to  impair  its  trutlifulness.  But  the  mere  circumstance  of 
being  derived  from  tradition  does  not  render  this  impossible. 
For,  even  if  it  were  the  case  that  a  tradition  so  unadulterated 
and  truthful  were  not  to  be  found  among  other  nations,  even 
though  they  had  been  incapable  of  separating  the  historical 
underground  of  a  legend  from  its  popular,  poetic,  or  philo- 
sophic adornments — we  must  still  claim  these  distinguishing 
merits  for  our  narrative,  on  the  supposition  that  it  was  derived 
from  tradition.  When  we  bear  in  mind  the  special  oversight 
exerted  by  Divine  Providence,  we  can  see  no  difiiculty  in  con- 
cluding that  it  had  watched  over  and  preserved  in  its  purity  that 
tradition  which  was  destined  to  form  a  part  of  revelation — until 
lie  should  come  whose  it  would  be  to  insert  it  in  the  Scriptures, 
and  thus  to  stamp  it  with  Divine  authority.     But  even  thifs 


§  1.    THE  ACCOUNT  OF  CREATION.  vii 

liypothesis  is  not  necessary.  Granting  that  the  original  tradition 
had  become  enlarged  and  adorned  among  the  Jews,  yet  the 
record  in  Gen.  i. — iii.  may  be  strictly  truthful  and  reliable,  since 
we  know  that  those  who  were  entrusted  with  the  composition 
of  the  Scriptures  were  enlightened  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  thus 
rendered  capable  of  distinguishing  between  what  was  true  and 
what  was  false,  between  what  was  genuine  and  what  spurious, 
in  those  traditions  which  they  were  to  present  to  the  people  as 
sources  from  which  to  learn  the  Divine  counsel  and  the  history 
of  salvation,  and  which  were  thereby  to  be  invested  mth  Divine 
authority. 

If,  therefore,  our  narrative  was  derived  from  tradition,  this 
tradition  must  have  been  pure  and  unadulterated,  really  the 
same  as  history  (in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term),  and  diftering 
from  it  only  in  this,  that  it  came  by  oral  transmission,  and 
not  from  cotemporary  clironicles.  As  yet  we  have  not  had 
materials  to  decide  whether  it  really  is  traditionary,  or  whether 
the  author  of  Genesis  had  derived  his  information  from  other 
som'ces.  But  a  closer  investigation  must  settle  tliis  enquiry  in 
favour  of  tradition.  Either  the  author  of  Genesis  had  found  the 
substance  of  his  narrative  already  in  existence  or  it  was  revealed 
to  him.  The  latter  seems  incredible,  since  the  legends  of  other 
nations — in  the  east  and  west,  in  the  north  and  south — ^however 
different  in  their  religious  spirit,  agree  so  remarkably,  and  often 
so  minutely,  with  the  account  in  our  narrative,  that  we  cannot 
but  trace  all  these  notices  to  a  common  source.  It  can  scarcely 
be  supposed  that  these  nations  could  have  derived  from  the  Jews 
the  facts  which  they  all  record.  Hence  the  substance  of  our 
narrative  cannot,  in  the  last  instance,  be  traced  to  the  author  of 
Genesis,  nor  even  to  an  Israelite,  but  must  have  been  drawn  from 
a  source  to  which  both  the  Jews  and  other  nations  had  access, 
and  which  must  belong  to  a  period  when  mankind  was  not  yet 
divided  by  varieties  of  abode  and  language,  of  race,  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  of  religion.  The  nations  must,  before  they  had  parted 
into  separate  races,  have  derived  from  primeval  times  these 
con^mon  recollections  and  legends.  At  later  periods  this  common 
heritage  assumed  difterent  forms  among  the  peoples,  or  through 
priestly  tradition,  accordhig  to  the  spiritual  direction  on  which, 
after  their  separntion.  tliey  had  entered.     Still,  it   nhvays  pre- 


vm  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WOKLD. 

sented,  in  the  marks  of  its  common  origin,  the  marks  of  the 
Father's  house.  Only  among  Israel,  where  means  and  capabi- 
lities existed  for  it,  was  the  legend  preserved  in  its  pristine 
purity. 

If  we  are  to  trace  this  legend  to  the  period  when  peoples  and 
tribes  were  still  united,  we  feel  not  only  at  liberty  but  are  even 
obliged  to  go  back  one  or  two  steps  further  to  the  time  of  Noah, 
and  thence  to  that  of  Adam.  It  is,  in  our  opinion,  more  than 
likely  that  this  tradition  had  been  handed  down  from  the  very 
earliest  time  to  that  of  the  author  of  Genesis.  But  our  record 
contains  tivo  sections,  each  forming  a  separate  account,  in  which 
the  same  events  are  separately  related,  each  in  its  own  peculiar 
context.  Does  this  circumstance  imply  that  originally  there  had 
been  two  distinct  traditions,  derived  from  separate  sources  ?  We 
reply  in  the  negative.  At  most  we  might  infer  that  the  original 
tradition  had  assumed  a  twofold  form,  perhaps  when  the  book  of 
Genesis  was  composed,  but  not  that  originally  there  had  been 
two  distinct  sources  of  it.  The  Israelitish  tradition  was  trans- 
mitted by  Noah,  and  afterwards  by  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
Even  if  this  ray  had,  during  the  preceding  period,  been  decom- 
posed by  the  prism  of  oral  tradition,  the  original  unity  would 
again  be  restored — possibly,  though  not  necessarily,  with  the  loss 
of  some  of  the  colours — in  Noah  and  Abraham.  After  that 
the  legend  may  have  formed  various  concentric  or  eccentric 
circles,  but  this  does  not  imply  that  they  conflicted  with  one 
another  or  with  the  original  tradition.  On  the  other  hand  Ave 
may  with  equal  propriety  assume  that  the  original  legend  had 
been  preserved  in  its  pristine  form.  If  the  former  hypothesis  be 
the  correct  one,  the  author  of  Genesis  may  really  have  drawn 
from  two  distinct  traditions,  in  order  to  supplement  the  one  by 
the  other.  In  that  case  the  more  certain  he  felt  that  he  had 
found  in  these  sources,  or  taken  from  them,  only  what  was  true  ; 
the  less  would  he  care  to  conceal  it  that  he  had  drawn  from  hvo 
sources.  Or,  if  the  second  hypothesis  be  the  correct  one,  we 
may  well  conceive  that  he  himself  had  arranged  the  different 
phases  of  the  one  tradition  into  two  distinct  and  mutually  sup- 
plementary groups.  The  reason  for  such  a  procedure  wiU  be 
stated  below,  in  §  10. 


§  2.  REVELATION  OF  THE  ACCOUNT  OF  CREATION.       ix 
§  2.  REVELATION  OF  THE  BIBLICAL  ACCOUNT  OF  CREATION. 

We  have  learned  that  the  Biblical  account  in  Gen.  i. — iii.  had 
been  derived  from  a  tradition  handed  down  from  primeval  times 
to  that  of  the  author  of  Genesis,  received  by  him  under  the 
direction  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  chronicled  in  Holy  Writ  to 
become  the  basis  of  sacred  history  and  doctrine,  thereby  receiving 
the  stamp  of  Divine  authority.  But  here  the  question  occurs, 
by  what  means  had  the  first  narrator  attained  his  knowledge 
of  the  events  described  ?  Some  of  them  were  doubtless  to  be 
traced  to  the  recollection  of  the  first  man  ;  but  others — and  those 
the  most  important  for  our  present  purpose — must  have  been 
acquired  in  a  different  manner.  The  whole  of  the  first,  and 
part  of  the  second  section,  treat  of  times  and  circumstances,  of 
events  and  developments,  which  human  eye  had  not  seen,  and 
which  lie  beyond  human  perception  and  recollection.  To  learn 
them,  he  required  means  and  capacities  other  than  those  which 
man  presently  possesses  for  ascertaining  what  has  taken  place. 
On  this  subject  Professor  Hofmann  has  a  theory  of  his  own. 
"  We  regard  the  account  of  creation,"  he  observes,  "  as  the 
expression  of  the  knowledge  which  the  first  man  had  of  what 
preceded  his  existence.  Nor  does  tliis  knowledge  necessarily 
imply  that  a  special  revelation  had  been  vouchsafed  to  liim,  if, 
indeed,  the  world,  as  it  then  was,  lay  before  liim  with  the  dis- 
tinctness and  perspicuity  which  Scripture  indicates.  Just  as,  in 
our  days,  the  natural  philosopher,  from  the  present  state  of  the 
eartli,  gathers  the  history  of  its  origin,  so  may  the  world  as  it 
then  existed,  and  which  the  first  man  clearly  and  immediately 
understood,  have  opened  to  him  an  insight  into  a  history  of  the 
manner  in  which  all  things  had  originated."  "  The  account  of 
the  creation  is  not  offered  to  us  either  as  the  result  of  reflection 
or  as  the  creation  of  fancy  concerning  the  origin  of  the  world, 
nor  as  a  scientific  investigation,  nor  as  a  revelation  compensating 
for  reflection  or  investigation — it  is  simply  the  recorded  intuition 
of  the  first  man,  handed  down  by  tradition." 

This  hypothesis  implies  that  the  knowledge  of  the  history  of 
creation  dates  from  before  the  Fall,  and  that  man  had  at  that 
period  possessed,  but  since  lost,  the  power  of  clearly  and  without 


X  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

error  recognising  not  only  tlie  essence  of  created  things,  as  they 
then  existed,  hut  also  the  history  of  their  origin,  without  being 
obliged  as  at  present  "  to  break  and  to  cut  them  up  in  order  to 
get  at  their  core."  As  De^iV^scA  expresses  it,  "  They  were  trans- 
parent to  man,  nor  did  he  require  to  use  violent  means  in  order 
to  investigate  them."  This  view  seems  contirmed  by  what  in  Gen. 
ii.  is  recorded  about  man's  original  state.  We  are  there  informed 
that  a  mere  survey  of  the  animal  world  was  sufficient  to  enable 
man  to  give  to  each  animal  its  appropriate  name,  and  that  the 
first  sight  of  woman  plainly  and  unmistakeably  disclosed  to  him 
her  origin,  being,  and  destiny.  ]\Iay  we  not  then  suppose  that 
man  had  been  capable  in  similar  manner  to  learn  the  history  of 
the  origin  of  heaven  and  earth,  of  the  sun  and  of  the  mountains, 
of  plants  and  of  animals  ?  But  a  careful  examination  of  the 
record  in  all  its  particulars — a  review  of  statements  not  isolated 
but  in  their  connection — will  lead  us  to  a  different  conclusion. 
God,  indeed,  left  it  to  man  to  assign  names  to  woman  and  to  the 
animals,  but  Himself  g&NO,  them  to  heaven  and  earth,  to  day  and 
night.  Why  this  difference  ?  If  the  giving  of  names  on  the 
part  of  man  was  a  revelation  of  man,  i.e.,  a  manifestation  of 
the  knowledge  he  possessed  of  the  nature  of  the  objects  to 
which  he  gave  names,  surely  the  giving  of  names  on  the  part  of 
God  was  likewise  a  revelation  of  God.  And  yet  we  are  told  that 
"  revelation  was  not  to  compensate  for  reflection  and  investigation 
on  the  part  of  man."  If  man  could,  by  mere  intuition,  have  known 
the  nature  and  history  of  those  objects,  why  did  God  not  leave  it 
to  man  to  assign  names  to  them  also  ?  Besides,  does  the  giving  of 
names  to  the  animals  really  imply  that  man,  by  an  act  of  simple 
intuition,  knew  not  merely  their  nature  and  character  but  also 
their  origin  and  former  development  ?  Might  not  the  former, 
without  the  latter,  have  aflbrded  sufficient  ground  for  giving 
those  names  ?  But  even  thus  modified  the  view  is  not  quite  cor- 
rect. The  serpent  must  have  been  one  of  those  animals  to  whom 
man  gave  names,  since,  according  to  Gen.  ii.  19,  20,  he  had 
named  all  the  beasts  of  the  field.  Yet  it  wiU  scarcely  be  asserted 
that  man  had  entirely  understood  or  known  the  nature,  position, 
or  import  of  that  animal.  He  had,  at  any  rate,  not  understood 
one  phase  of  its  being — that  "  it  was  more  subtile  than  any  beast 
of  the  field."      Had  he  from  the  first  known  it  as  the  liar  and 


§  2.  REVELATION  OF  THE  ACCOUNT  OF  CREATION.      xi 

deceiver  which  afterwards  it  proved  to  be,  he  would  not  so  readily 
have  credited  its  smooth  sijeeches. 

But  man  had  at  the  first  glance  perfectly  known  not  only  the 
present  character,  but  also  the  origin  and  the  future  destiny  of 
woman  ?  The  first  point  we  admit ;  the  second  is,  to  say  the  least, 
doubtful/  But  at  any  rate  it  seems  to  us  arbitrary  and  unwarrant- 
able from  the  circumstance  that  man  was  able  to  recognise  the 
origin  and  nature  of  woman,  to  infer  his  capacity  of  recognising  the 
origin  and  nature  of  all  other  objects.  For,  unlike  the  creation 
of  all  other  beings,  that  of  woman  lay  not  beyond  the  sphere  of 
his  own  existence,  and  her  origin,  although  it  took  place  while 
deep  sleep  had  fallen  on  man,  was  not  such  as  to  require  un- 
limited knowledge  to  divine  it.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have 
proof  that  in  his  original  state  man  had  not  known  the  origin 
and  real  nature  of  all  that  existed.  Thus  the  tree  of  knowledge 
stood  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  and  yet  man  could  not  recog- 
nise either  its  nature  or  purport.  He  knew  not  that  he  was  not 
allowed  to  eat  of  it  as  of  all  the  other  trees  in  the  garden ;  he 
understood  not  that  to  partake  of  its  fruit  would  be  to  introduce 
death — till  God  had  revealed  it  to  him. 

But  even  granting  that  before  the  fall  man  had  been  able  by 
mere  intuition  to  penetrate  into  the  inmost  depths  of  creation, 
and,  through  his  knowledge  of  what  existed,  to  understand  the 
history  of  its  origin,  the  text  refers  to  other  facts  which,  even 
with  such  powers,  man  could  not  have  ascertained  without  a 
special  revelation.  Assuming  man  to  have  had  such  powers,  we 
may,  for  example,  conceive  it  possible  that  from  what  then 
existed  he  had  inferred  both  the  order  of  creation  and  the  num- 
ber of  creative  acts  ;  but  we  can  hardly  understand  how  he  could 
have  known  that  there  had  been  six  creative  days,  and  in  wliat 
special  manner  the  eight  distinct  creative  acts  Avere  distributed 
over  that  period.  Lastly,  it  is  quite  inconceivable  how,  from  an 
intuition  of  the  world,  he  could,  without  a  Divine  Revelation, 
have  learned  that  God  blessed  the  seventh  day  and  sanctified  it. 

The  conviction  of  the  fallacy  of  this  theory  is  even  more 

1  When  we  keep  in  mind  that  (Matth.  xix.  5)  our  Saviour  quotes  Gen.  ii. 
24  as  spoken  by  God,  wo  shall  le<;l  disposeil,  with  Deliizsch,  to  regard  them 
not  as  uttered  by  Adam,  but  as  a  remark  of  the  narrator,  meant  to  givp  a 
w\(hv  application  to  the  words  of  Adam  in  ver.  2.'^. 


Xll  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

strongly  impressed  upon  us,  when,  from  a  consideration  of  in- 
dividual circumstances,  we  pass  to  that  of  the  more  leading  traits 
of  the  narrative.  Although  at  the  close  of  the  six  days,  God 
declared  that  all  He  had  created  was  very  good,  we  learn  very  soon 
that  evil  also  already  existed.  For  man  was  to  learn  both  good 
and  evil,  yet  without  himself  becoming  evil.  There  must  therefore 
have  been  some  evil  which  he  was  to  know  and  to  overcome. 
Again,  from  the  circumstance  that  his  spiritual  development,  his 
power  of  self-determination,  and  the  manifestation  of  liis  freedom 
and  activity — in  a  word,  his  whole  history,  was  to  commence  with 
this  Imowledge  of,  and  victory  over  evil,  we  learn  what  import- 
ance attached  to  it  in  respect  to  man  and  his  history.  This 
antagonism  between  good  and  evil,  which  man  was  to  Imow  in 
order  to  remove  it,  must  have  been  so  wide  in  its  bearings  as  to 
have  extended  to  all  objects  around  him,  so  that  he  could  not 
have  acted  within  the  province  assigned  to  him  without  coming 
into  conflict  with  evil,  and  that  there  was  not  a  direction  in  which 
he  could  realise  the  object  of  his  being  mthout  at  once  feeling 
its  contiguity.  Acquaintance  with  tliis  antagonism  was  therefore 
the  necessary  preliminary  of  all  other  knowledge.  Before  this 
had  been  attained,  men  possessed  a  knowledge  of  what  existed, 
(and  to  it  we  trace  his  naming  of  the  animals)  ;  but  a  genuine, 
deep,  and  accurate  knoiuledge,  a  penetration  into  the  depths  of 
nature,  into  the  mysteries  of  faith  and  Ufe,  into  the  relations 
between  the  present  and  the  past,  coidd  only  be  attained  when 
the  antagonism  between  good  and  evil  was  rightly  understood, 
i.e.,  removed  and  overcome.  Before  that  any  real  knowledge  of 
things  was  impossible.  The  Imowledge  of  good  and  evil  was 
the  condition  of  all  other  knowledge.' 

If  by  mere  intuition  of  what  existed,  man  could  have  learned  to 
know  its  origin,  he  must  from  the  first  have  discovered  the  origin 
and  existence  of  evil.  But  irrespective  of  the  fact  that  this  would 
have  rendered  any  trial  of  man  unnecessary,  let  it  be  observed 

1  By  the  Fall  man  attained  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  but  not  proper 
knowledge,  since  it  was  not  got  in  the  proper  way.  It  was,  so  to  speak,  the 
reverse  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  which  he  should  have  attained.  As 
he  did  not  rightly  apprehend  what  was  good,  so  neither  did  he  truly  know 
what  was  evil.  Only  when  through  redemption  he  shall  have  attained  a  full 
knowledge  of  what  is  good,  shall  he  fully  know  what  is  evil.  The  develop- 
ment of  this  twofold  knowledge  proceeds  pari  pa«M. 


§  2,    REVELATION  OF  THE  ACCOUNT  OF  CREATION.  xiii 

that  neither  in  the  first  nor  in  tlie  second  section  of  our  narrative 
do  we  find  the  slightest  hint  about  the  origin  of  e\dl,  which,  how- 
ever, is  assumed  as  ah-eady  existing,  and  which  was  so  soon  to 
make  itself  felt.    Had  he  been  capable  of  penetrating  by  intuition 
into  the  inmost  being  of  every  object,  and  to  descry  the  liistory 
of  its  origin,  he  could  not  have  failed  to  discover  the  origin  and 
the  influence  of  evil.    It  is  therefore  impossible  that  the  narrative 
of  what  took  place  before  the  creation  of  man  could  have  proceeded 
from  his  intuition.     The  silence  of  the  record  about  the  existence 
of  evil  can  only  be  explained  on  the  ground  that  the  narrative 
was  revealed  to  man,  and  that  the  all- wise  Teacher  had  seen  fit 
for  a  time  to  draw  a  boundary  line  between  what  should_be  told 
him  and  what  kept  back.     The  narrative  then,  so  far  as  it  records 
what  man  had  not  seen  and  experienced,  must  have  been  com- 
nmnicated  by  God,  who  made  known  only  so  much  of  what  had 
passed  as  at  the  time  was  necessary  and  profitable  for  man,  leaving 
the  filling  up  of  the  gaps  and  the  explanation  of  the  hints  to  a 
period  when  the  pupil  should  have  attained  a  more  mature  age. 
We  fully  admit  that,  in  his  original  state,  man  was  called, 
and  hence  endowed  with  the  capacity  to  understand  the  nature, 
relations,  origin,  and  object  of  all  that  had  been  created.     We 
infer  this  from  his  position,  and  from  his  calling  to  subdue  the 
whole  earth  and  all  its  creatures.     For,  in  order  to  subdue,  he 
must  first  have  known  them,  and  have  understood  what,  whence, 
and  for  what  purpose  they  were.     Further,  we  admit  that  if  by 
the  Fall  man's  natural  capacities  had  not  been  destroyed,  and  he 
])laced  in  a  totally  different  position,  he  would  have  attained  that 
knowledge  by  immediate  intuition,  and  that  the  inmost  being  of 
tilings  would  have  been  disclosed  to  his  sovereign  glance,  with- 
out his  requiring  the  scalpel,  the  hammer,  the  telescope,  or  the 
microscope — in  a  word,  without  those  marvellous  but  feeble  aids 
of  which  science  at  present  makes  use,  in  order,  after  all,  to 
know  only  tlie  outside  of  things.     But  we  utterly  deny  that 
during    the    short    period    in    which    man    continued    in    his 
unfallen   state   liis   capncity  of  knowledge   had  become  fully 
developed,  or  that  his  destiny  had,  in  tins  respect,  been  realised. 
]\Ian  was  created  both  perfect  and  good,  but  his  original  perfect- 
ness  was  capable  of  and  required  development,  since  he  was 
created  a  free  and  personal  being,  destined  by  his  own  free 


XIV  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

decision  to  become  what  the  Creator  intended  him  to  be — to 
develop  the  powers  and  talents  with  which  Grod  had  endowed 
him,  and  thus  to  fulfil  his  vocation.  As  all  his  other  talents,  so 
his  capacity  for  knowledge  also  required  progressive  development 
before  it  could  ripen  into  full,  all-comprehensive,  and  all-pene- 
trating knoioledge.  This,  the  termination  of  his  development, 
should  not  be  expected  at  its  commencement.  Accordingly  we 
read,  in  the  first  section  of  our  narrative,  that  man  was  destined 
to  subdue  the  whole  earth  and  all  that  was  upon  and  in  it.  But 
that  this  referred  not  to  the  commencement  but  to  the  completion 
of  his  development  we  gather  even  from  the  circumstance  that 
"to  replenish  the  earth"  (Gen.  i.  18)  is  mentioned  as  the  con- 
dition and  the  foundation  of  subduing  it.  This  view  is  further 
confirmed  by  the  second  section,  which  likewise  describes  the 
commencement,  not  the  completion  of  man's  development. 
There  it  is  said  that  man  was  to  di-ess  and  to  keep  the  garden  of 
Eden,  not  the  tuhole  earth.  His  sway,  which  implied  a  know- 
ledge of  that  which  was  to  be  subject  to  him,  was  to  commence  at 
one  point,  and  thence  gradually  to  extend  over  the  whole  earth. 
That  the  view  which  we  oppose  is  erroneous  we  also  gather 
from  the  circumstance  that,  if  consistently  carried  out,  it  would 
leave  no  room  for  the  necessity  of  a  Divine  revelation,  either 
before  sin  entered,  or,  if  it  had  not  entered  at  all,  while  the 
history  before  the  Fall,  as  recorded  in  ch.  ii. ,  exhibits  a  continuous 
process  of  revelation,  leading  us  to  infer  that  such  teaching  must 
have  been  requisite.  It  our  opponents  are  right,  man  required  not 
Divine  instruction  and  revelation  to  attain  the  object  of  his  being. 
The  Bible,  on  the  contrary,  represents  man  as  destined,  indeed, 
for  high  purposes,  and  hence  as  highly  endowed,  but  as  one 
whose  capabilities  had  not  yet  been  fully  developed,  and  whose 
mission  had  not  yet  been  realised.  To  attain  these  objects, 
Divine  training,  teaching,  exhortation,  and  warning  attended 
him  in  all  his  ways.  True,  revelation  was  not  intended — either 
before  or  after  the  entrance  of  sin — to  compensate  for  personal 
investigation  and  reflection,  or  to  render  these  exercises  unneces- 
sary, but  it  was  vouchsafed  in  order  to  direct  them,  to  preserve 
them  from  aberrations,  to  strengthen,  sanctify,  and  purify  them, 
and,  when  necessary,  to  make  up  any  defects  or  to  supply  any 
gaps.     And  such  training  was  necessary,  not  only  after  but  even 


§  2.  REVELATION  OF  THE  ACCOUNT  OF  CREATION.      XV 

before  the  Fall,  since  man  had  not  yet  attained  perfection,  and 
was  surrounded  by  dangers  of  the  existence  of  which  he  was 
ignorant. 

We  now  proceed  to  consider  the  other  supposition  on  which 
Hofmanns  theory  is  based,  viz.,  that,  before  his  Fall,  man  had 
known  the  history  of  creation  as  recorded  in  Gen.  i.  and  ii. 
Even  if  this  view  were  correct  it  could  not  invalidate  our  for- 
mer conclusion  that  the  narrative  of  the  creation  was  derived 
from  revelation,  and  not  from  the  natural  intuition  of  the  first 
man.  But  we  cannot  admit  its  accuracy,  since  the  history  of 
the  first  man  as  described  in  chaps,  ii.  and  iii.  does  not  advert  to 
such  knowledge,  nor  indeed  would  it  tally  with  the  regular  pro- 
gress of  his  history.  Chap.  ii.  describes  the  development  of 
man  under  the  guidance  and  revelation  of  God.  When  man 
was  placed  in  the  garden  he  was  still  without  knowledge.  This 
he  was  to  attain  in  Eden.  Plainly,  it  is  impossible  to  suppose  that 
when  placed  in  the  garden  he  had  already  possessed  the  grand 
and  comprehensive  knowledge  embodied  in  Gen.  i.  This  would 
not  agree  with  the  state  of  ignorance  which  the  instructions 
given  him  by  God  imply.  At  that  period  man's  consciousness 
was  still  a  "  carte  blanche."  We  should,  therefore,  have  to  sup- 
pose that  he  had  acquired  his  knowledge  of  the  procedure  in 
creation  during  his  stay  in  the  garden.  But  this,  also,  could 
not  have  been  the  case,  since  at  that  time  his  development 
tended  exclusively  towards  ojie  object,  viz.,  preparation  and 
training  for  the  grand  trial  which  awaited  him.  Ever}i,hing 
wliich  did  not  further  that  object  would  hinder  and  arrest  Ills 
development,  and  every  new  information  which  did  not  contri- 
bute towards  that  preparation  would  only  prove  a  foreign  and 
disturbing  element.  But  nothing  that  is  recorded  in  Gen.  i. 
could  have  countributed  to  prepare  him  for  that  decisive  trial. 
Hence  the  events  of  which  it  treats  could  only  have  been  learned 
after  the  Fall. 

God  placed  man  in  the  garden,  where  he  was  to  undergo  his 
decisive  trial.  He  then  imparted  to  him,  step  by  step,  the 
knowledge  which  he  required  to  come  to  a  proper  decision,  and 
caused  him  to  pass  through  the  necessary  stages  of  preliminary 
development.  At  that  period  there  was  neither  room,  time,  nor 
occasion  for  attaining  such  knowledg^e  as  is  communicated  in 


XVI  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

Gen.  i.  Hence,  if  the  first  man  possessed  this  information,  he 
must  have  acquired  it  after ^  not  hefore,  his  Fall.  From  Paradise 
man  only  carried  with  him  the  recollection  of  what  he  had  there 
experienced,  and  of  what  God  had  there  revealed  to  him.  But 
of  this  the  history  of  creation  formed  not  part.  The  recollection 
of  what  man  had  experienced  hefore  the  Fall  was  the  nucleus  of 
the  tradition  which  after  the  Fall  began  to  take  form,  and  was 
orally  transmitted  to  Noah,  to  Abraham,  and  to  Moses.  This 
tradition  was  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  an  account  of  what 
took  place  after  the  Fall,  and  of  the  history  of  creation — which 
latter  coidd  only  have  been  communicated  by  revelation.  It  is 
more  difficult  to  decide  whether  this  revelation  was  made  to  the 
first  man  or  to  a  succeeding  generation  through  some  man  of  God 
— such  as  Enoch,  who  "walked  with  God"  (Gen.  v.  22) — to 
whom,  by  Divine  illumination,  a  glimpse  of  those  events  had  been 
granted,  even  as,  according  to  an  ancient  tradition,  confirmed  in 
the  new  Testament  (Jude  14,  15),  Enoch  was  honom-ed  with  a 
vision  of  the  future  judgment.  We  can  only  ventm'e  on  a  sug- 
gestion to  wliich  some  probability  may  attach.  A  closer  ex- 
amination of  the  account  of  creation  will  convince  us  that  all 
along  it  had  a  distinct  and  definite  tendency,  or  at  least  led 
to  a  definite  result,  viz.,  to  show  that  the  Sabbath-day  was 
of  Divine  institution,  and  specially  designed  for  the  worship  of 
God.  Since  God  had  created  during  six  days  and  rested  on 
the  seventh,  man  also  was,  according  to  the  example  and  by  the 
will  of  God,  to  labour  during  six  days  and  on  the  seventh  to 
rest  from  all  his  works.  In  our  view,  then,  Gen  ii.  1 — 3  affords 
a  clue  to  the  occasion  and  the  object  of  the  revelation  of  the 
history  of  creation.  If  we  enquire  for  a  historical  basis  upon 
wliich  to  rest  this  view  of  the  origin  of  our  narrative,  we  find 
that  in  Gen.  iv.  26,  at  the  time  when  Enos  the  son  of  Seth  was 
born,  men  began  to  call  upon  the  name  of  Jehovah.  The  mean- 
ing of  tills  expression  is  plain.  It  refers  to  the  first  institution 
of  the  regular,  solemn,  public  worship  of  Jehovah.  Instead  of 
the  former  private,  arbitrary,  and  irregular  service,  as,  for 
example,  in  the  sacrifices  of  Cain  and  Abel,  we  have  now  a 
common  form  of  worship.  But  for  such  a  purpose  the  first 
requisite  was  to  fix  a  season  for  worship,  and  of  this  the  Sabbath 
was  the  prototype  and  centre.     Are  we  not,  then,  warranted  in 


§  3.    PKOPHETIO  CHARACTER  OF  THE  ACCOUNT  OT  CREATION.    Xvii 

suggesting^  that  the  history  of  creation  was  revealed  at  that  time 
for  the  purpose  of  becoming  the  basis  and  directory  of  this  insti- 
tution? But  whether  this  revelation  had  been  made  to  Adam, 
who  was  still  alive  at  that  time,  or  to  Seth  or  to  any  other  of  his 
cotemporaries,  must  remain  undecided. 


^  6.    PEOPHETIC    CHARACTER    OF    THE    BIBLICAL    ACCOUNT    OF 
CREATION. 

We  have  seen  that  what  had  taken  place  before  Adam  obtained 
self-conscious  existence,  must  have  been  divinely  revealed  either 
to  liim  or  to  some  one  of  his  descendants.  But  in  what  manner 
was  this  communication  made  to  man  ?  We  conceive  that  the 
first  narrator,  whether  Adam  or  one  of  his  descendants,  received 
it  in  a  manner  analogous  to  that  in  which  prophets  received  their 
revelations.  The  peculiarity  of  prophetic  vision  consisted  in  this, 
that  the  Spirit  of  God,  who  knows  neither  past  nor  futm-e,  but 
to  whom  everything  is  eternally  present — partly  and  temporarily 
elevated  the  spirit  of  man — who,  though  bound  to  time  and 
space,  is  breath  of  His  breath  (Gen.  ii.  7)  and  His  offspring 
(Acts  x^di.  28) — ahove  the  limitations  of  time,  and  enabled  him 
to  share  His  power  of  beholding  the  past  and  the  future  as  if  it 
were  p)Tesent.  In  short,  we  hold  that  man  learned  the  history  of 
creation  in  the  same  manner  in  which  later  prophets  learned  the 
developments  and  events  of  periods  removed  from  their  own  time, 
viz. ,  in  spiritual  vision  afforded  through  the  agency  of  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

This  explanation  has  called  forth  considerable  controversy 
chiefly  at  the  hands  of  Hofmami,  Delitzsch,  Richers,  and  Kcil. 
To  the  opinion  of  the  first  of  these  writers  on  the  subject  under 
consideration,  we  have  ah-eady  referred  ;  the  others  hold  that 
God  had  imparted  to  the  first  man  by  personal  and  oral  instruc- 
tion— as  a  father  to  his  child,  or  as  a  teacher  to  his  pupil — the 
knowledge  of  the  history  embodied  in  Gen.  i.  and  ii.     In  dis- 

1  Let  it  not  be  objected  that  the  passage  refers  to  the  worship  of  Jehovah, 
■while  in  the  history  of  creation  only  the  name  Elohim  occurs.  This  difficulty 
is  set  aside  by  the  Jehovah  Elohim  of  Gen.  ii.  4,  &c. 

b 


XVlll  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

cussing  this  question,  we  have  to  distinguish  between  a  history 
wi'itten  under  Divine  direction  and  one  composed  entirely  by 
man.  In  the  latter,  man  is  letl  to  his  own  experience,  investiga- 
tion, and  criticism — in  the  former,  he  is  aided  by  the  knowledge 
and  mind  of  the  Lord.  The  source  of  all  merely  human  history 
is  autopsy  or  personal  experience,  whether  on  the  part  of  the 
writer  himself  or  of  others,  who  have  transmitted  their  investi- 
gations. But,  as  only  that  which  man  has  actually  experienced 
can  form  the  subject  of  such  a  history,  it  can  only  commence  at 
a  point  where  the  individual,  or  the  race,  has  arrived  at  self- 
consciousness  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  learned  to  observe 
and  to  reflect  on  what  takes  place.  Again,  it  must  terminate 
with  the  period  in  which  the  writer  lives.  But  not  only  what 
the  historian  has  derived  from  tradition — even  what  he  him- 
self has  experienced,  is  doubtful  and  uncertain.  For,  tradition 
may  in  the  course  of  time  have  undergone  corruption,  and  one's 
own  experience  may  not  have  been  properly  viewed  or  under- 
stood. Hence  in  sacred  history,  where  not  only  the  outward  fact 
must  be  recorded,  but  also  its  real  character  and  its  bearing  on 
the  history  of  redemption  understood,  the  historian  required  as 
much  the  assistance  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  detailing  what  men 
have  experienced  as  did  the  prophets  and  apostles  in  tracing  the 
doctrines  of  salvation.  The  Synagogue  has  therefore  rightly 
characterised  even  the  historical  books  of  the  Old  Testament  as 
prophetical.  But  as  revelation  never  supplies  what  man  could 
have  discovered  without  its  aid,  we  do  not  find  in  the  historical 
parts  of  the  Bible  (always  excepting  G-en.  i.  and  ii.)  any  hint 
that  the  writers  had  received  the  material  of  their  narratives  in  a 
supernatural  manner.  Hence  we  conclude  that  the  co-operation 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  consisted  in  this,  that  they  were  enabled  to 
distinguish  the  true  from  the  spurious  in  these  traditions,  and  to 
understand  the  spiritual  bearing  of  these  facts. 

But  beyond  the  boundaries  of  human  experience  lies  another 
development,  and  hence  another  history — on  the  one  side  em- 
bracing ih.Qpast,  on  the  other  ihe  future.  For,  when  man  com- 
menced to  observe  and  to  construct  history,  himself  and  aU 
around  him  were  already  existent.  Nor  does  the  current  of 
development  stop  with  the  period  in  which  the  writer  lives  ;  the 


§  3.      PROPHETIC  CHAHACTEK  OF  THE  ACCOUNT  OF   CREATION,     xix 

thread  is  not  cut  sliort,  but  millions  of  hands  and  powers, 
belonging  not  to  the  visible  only  but  also  to  the  invisible  world, 
continue  it,  and  none  of  them  knows  what  the  general  result  will 
bo  to  which  each  contributes  his  part.  These  two  phases  of 
history  lie  beyond  human  ken,  which,  bound  to  space  and  time, 
can  only  call  the  present  its  own.  Only  the  Lord  looks  behind 
and  before,  beholding  botli  the  development  which  preceded  the 
Jirst  appearance  of  man,  and  that  which  lies  beyond  the  present 
generation.  However  different,  these  two  histories  are  similar 
both  as  to  the  ground  on  which  man  is  unacquainted  with  them, 
and  the  manner  in  which  he  may  learn  to  know  them.  Ho  does 
not  know  them  because  he  is  created  ;  he  may  become  acquainted 
with  them  since  God  hioivs  them,  and  in  that  case  he  will  have 
to  learn  them  by  Divine  revelation.  But  how  is  this  knowledge 
imparted  ?  Only  once — in  Gen.  i. — iii. — did  God  reveal  to  man 
what  had  taken  place  before  his  appearance  ;  but  very  frequently 
did  he  communicate  events  yet  future.  In  those  cases  it  is 
generally  stated  in  express  terms,  or  clearly  implied  that  the 
prophetic  history  of  the  future  was  derived  from  prophetic  intui- 
tion. It  is  nowhere  stated,  hinted,  or  implied,  that  a  prediction 
of  future  history  was  derived  from  Divine  teaching,  either  by 
oral  or  inward  communication.  It  seems,  therefore,  to  be  a 
law  of  revelation  that  the  disclosure  of  the  future  is  brought 
about  by  prophetic  intuition.  But  as  there  is  no  essential  dif- 
ference in  principle  or  otherwise,  between  a  revelation  of  the 
future  and  one  of  the  past,  may  we  not  assume  that  the  latter  had 
been  communicated  in  the  same  manner  in  which  we  know  the 
former  has  invariably  been  vouchsafed?  This  supposition  is 
abundantly  confirmed  by  the  narrative  under  consideration.  We 
notice  in  it  a  vividness  of  perception  and  a  pictorialness  of 
description  which  almost  necessarily  leads  us  to  conclude  that  the 
writer  relates  what  he  had  seen.  Our  opponents  deny  indeed 
that  these  characteristics  apply  to  this  narrative  more  than  to 
others.  Assertion  must  here  be  met  by  counter-assertion  ;  per- 
haps neither  the  one  nor  the  other  statement  admits  of  ]n-obation. 
We  maintain,  then,  that  the  narrator  was  in  prophetic  illumina- 
tion, raised  to  the  height  of  Divine  autopsy,  had  spiritually 
beheld  what  took  place  before  man  existed,  and  then  translated 
into  words  his  \dsion.      He  described  that  which,  and  in  the 

62 


XX  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WOKLD. 

manner  in  which  he  had  behekl  it.^  These  were  prophetico- 
historical  scenes,  enacted  before  his  spiritual  vision,  of  which 
each  represented  a  leading  feature  in  the  great  drama,  a  princi- 
pal phase  in  the  development.  One  scene  opens  after  the  other, 
until,  at  the  close  of  the  seven,  the  historical  succession  in  crea- 
tion has  been  completely  brought  before  him. 


§  4.  LIMIT  AND  DURATION  OF  THE  CREATIVE  DAYS. 

The  first  chapter  of  Genesis  details  eight  acts  of  creation,  each 
beginning  with  the  words  ;  "  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  ;"  but 
only  six  creative  days  in  which  these  eight  acts  had  taken  place. 
Each  of  these  days  commenced  with  a.  creative  morning,  marked 
by  a  Divine  :  "  Let  there  be  ;"  during  the  course  of  the  day  the 
command  of  the  Creator  then  became  an  outward  fact,  while 
the  recurrence  of  evening  and  morning  formed  a  transition  to 
another  creative  day.^ 

But  here  two  questions  will  occur  to  the  reader.  Was  the 
number  seven — under  which,  by  Divine  revelation,  the  seer 
beholds  the  history  of  creation  inclusive  of  the  Divine  rest  at  the 
close  of  it — essential  and  necessary  or  accidental  and  unimpor- 
tant ?  In  other  words :  might  creation  not  have  been  represented 
under  more  or  under  fewer  phases  of  development  than  these 
seven — was  this  arrangement  based  on  objective  truth,  and 
does  it  represent  what  really  took  place,  or  was  it  only  suhj'ec- 
tively  true,  so  far  as  the  vision  of  the  prophet  was  concerned  ? 
Even  if  tlie  latter  were  the  case,  it  would  not  necessarily  take 
from  the  Divine  character  and  authority  of  the  narrative,  just  as 
similar  circumstances  do  not  detract  from  the  value  or  impor- 

1  We  scarcely  anticipate  the  objection  that  the  narrative  contains  also  the 
report  of  the  words  of  God  which  could  only  be  heard,  not  seen.  For  this 
objection  would  apply  to  many  other  prophetic  visions.  Nobody  would  con- 
ceive that  God  spake  in  the  anthropomorphistic  and  sensual  manner  implied 
in  the  objection.  In  the  mind  of  the  beholder  the  effects  which  are  being 
produced  by  the  Divine  operation,  appear  as  words  spoken. 

2  We  cannot  admit  the  correctness  of  the  common  view  that  the  expres- 
sion "there  was  evening  and  there  was  morning,"  was  meant  to  be  a  para- 
phrase for  the  whole  day.  The  interpretation  is  ungrammatical  and  contrary 
to  the  sense  of  the  passage.  In  this  section  where  such  emphasis  is  laid 
on  the  order  of  time  and  in  this  peculiar  connection,  the  "  vav  consecutivum  " 
can  only  denote  fuccession  of  time,  so  that  what  precedes  must  be  regarded  as 


§  4.    LIMIT  AND  DURATION  OF  THE  CliliATlVE  DAYS.  Xxi 

tance  of  the  predictions  of  tlio  prophets.  But  the  narrative 
embodies  a  fact,  which  of  itself  shows  that  the  former  of  these 
views  is  the  correct  one.  For  it  will  be  noticed  that  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  week  and  the  sanctification  of  the  Sabbath  was 
based  on  Gen.  ii.  3 — an  argument  this  of  which  the  force  is  in- 
dicated by  such  passages  as  Ex.  xx.  9 — 11,  and  xxxi.  12 — 17, 
which  inculcate  on  the  people  the  duty  of  Sabbath-observance. 
If  the  arrangement  of  the  creative  acts  had  been  merely  subjec- 
tive, unimportant  and  arbitrary,  it  could  not  have  been  the  pro- 
totjqDC  and  the  occasion  of  a  Divine  law  of  such  importance. 
This  argument  is  not  in  the  least  impugned  by  the  circum- 
stance that  the  number  seven  seems  to  occupy  an  important 
place  both  in  the  arrangements  of  nature  and  in  the  laws  of  the 
human  mind.  Connected  with  this  is  a  second  question  as  to 
the  precise  meaning  which  we  are  to  attach  to  the  boundary 
lines  of  time  as  drawn  in  the  narrative  of  creation.  Are  we  to 
understand  the  creative  clays  as  natural  ordinary  days  of  twenty- 
four  hours  each,  so  that  the  process  of  creation,  or  rather  of  the  re- 
storation of  the  earth  and  of  its  whole  organism,  occupied  precisely 
six  times  twenty-four  hours — or  are  we  to  conceive  that  these 

also  preceding  in  point  of  time.  "  God  said  :.Let  there  be  light ! — There  was 
light.  God  divided  the  light  from  the  darkness. — It  became  evening,  it 
became  morning."  Everything  moves  here  in  strict  succession  of  time.  It 
is,  therefore,  quite  erroneous  to  infer  that,  because  darkness  had  preceded 
light,  the  first  day  commenced  with  an  evening.  For  darkness  is  designated 
not  as  ci'eninghat  as  night,  and  the  expression,  "  It  became  evening,"  implies 
that  a  day  had  preceded  it.  Hence  the  creative  day  cannot  have  commenced 
with  the  evening  but  with  the  morning.  The  general  and  long-continued 
misunderstanding  of  the  passage  arose  from  the  circumstance  that  as  the 
Hebrews,  like  most  other  nations  of  antiquity,  commenced  their  day  with  the 
evening,  it  was  thought  that  this  practice  must  derive  some  support  from 
the  narrative  of  the  creation.  The  idea  is  so  far  correct,  but  the  social 
arrangement  was  based  not  on  any  of  the  first  six,  but  on  the  seventh  day. 
The  work-day  naturally  commences  with  the  morning,  the  day  of  rest  with 
the  evening.  But  since  the  .Sa)>bath  formed  the  standard,  both  for  the  civil 
and  ecclesiastical  division  of  time,  and  the  Sabbath  naturally  commenced  with 
the  termination  of  the  preceding  work-day,  the  arrangement  of  all  other  days 
was  made  in  accordance  with  it.  Still  tlie  working  day  really  commenced  in 
the  morning.  Tiiis  explanation,  which  we  feel  convinced  is  the  only  correct 
one,  furnishes  another  proof  that  '■  the  myth"  about  creation  was  not  derived 
from  the  division  of  the  week,  but  the  latter  from  the  "  history"  of  creation. 
Since  these  remarks  were  first  written,  Delitzsch,  against  whom  they  were 
dii-ected,  has  admitted,  although  on  independent  grounds,  that  the  almost 
traditional  common  view  is  erroneous.  Similarly  Ilqfmann  and  Ncgelsbach 
have  shown  its  fallacy.  May  we  then,  Avith  Dclitzsch,  hope  that  an  error 
rebutted  by  "  four  independent  witnesses"  will  forever  be  set  aside? 


XXll  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

boundary  lines  existed  only  in  the  mind  of  the  prophet  and  not 
in  reality,  that  these  days  were  prophetic  days,  i.e.,  periods  of 
indefinite  dm-ation  ? 

We  admit  that  in  prophetic  diction  such  periods  may  be  desig- 
nated as  days.  But  on  the  other  hand  it  is  not  necessarily  im- 
pKed  that  because  the  narrative  itself  is  prophetic  in  its  cast  and 
origin,  those  days  also  must  refer  to  so  many  periods  of 
indefinite  duration.  As  in  the  vision  of  Jeremiah  the  seventy 
years  are  real  years,  so  in  the  narrative  of  the  creation  the  six  days 
may  be  real  days.  In  all  such  cases  the  point  can  only  be  decided 
in  one  of  two  ways.  Either  the  prophecy  contains  some  points 
which  remove  the  doubt  (just  as  in  Jerem.  xxix.  it  is  clearly 
indicated  that  the  seventy  years  are  not  prophetic  but  real  years), 
or  the  answer  is  to  be  derived  from  an  investigation  of  what 
actually  had  taken  place,  i.e.  in  the  case  of  a  prediction  from  its 
fulfilment,  and  in  that  of  the  history  of  creation  from  the  con- 
clusions of  natural  science.  It  is  too  frequently  assumed  that 
the  latter  are  in  favour  of  interpreting  these  days  as  periods.  It 
is  said  that  Astronomy  will  not  permit  us  to  believe  that  aU  the 
host  of  stars  and  the  planetary  and  solar  heavens  were  formed  in 
twenty-four  hours,  nor  Geology  that  the  primary  and  the  strati- 
fied formations  with  all  their  organisms  were  formed  in  one  day, 
or  in  six  days  each  of  twenty-four  hours.  According  to  Delitszoh, 
even  natural  philosophers,  to  whom  Christianity  is  matter  of 
heart  and  life,  liold  that  "millions  of  years"  (?  !)  must  have 
preceded  the  present  formation  of  the  earth.  But  such  asser- 
tions must  not  deter  us  from  impartially  examining  the  narra- 
tive itself  How  does  the  narrative  regard  those  days  ?  For  if 
it  furnishes  data  showing  that  they  were  regarded  as  natural 
days,  our  exegesis  must  not  be  discarded  in  favour  either  of 
Astronomy  or  of  Geology. 

We  are  fully  convinced  that  if  the  record  be  impartially  and 
critically  examined,  without  any  regard  to  other  and  foreign  con- 
siderations, we  can  arrive  only  at  one  conclusion,  viz.,  that 
these  six  creative  days  were  natural  days.  On  the  other  hand, 
we  are  also  convinced  that  natural  science  can  be  harmonised 
with  this  conclusion,  and  that  even  though  we  were  to  admit 
the  extravagant  assertion  that  millions  of  years  must  have  pre- 
ceded the  present  formation  of  the  earth.      Delitzsch,  indeed, 


§  4.    LIMIT  AND  DURATION  OF  THE  CREATIVE  DAYS.       xxiii 

maintains  "  that  the  narrative  could  not  have  been  intended  to 
limit  the  six  days  with  the  Sabbath  which  followed  them  to  one 
ordinary  week.  The  creative  days  must  be  creative  periods — of 
whose  length  tlie  writer  himself  had  probably  no  distinct  notion. 
He  speaks  of  days  of  divine  duration."  But  in  ver.  5,  where 
the  enumeration  of  the  creative  days  commences,  we  are  distinctly 
shewn  in  what  sense  it  is  intended  that  the  word  "  day"  should 
be  understood :  God  divided  the  light  from  the  darkness,  and 
called  the  light  day  and  the  darkness  night.  And  it  became 
evening  and  it  became  morning.  Thus  the  first  day  closed,  and 
merged  into  the  second.  We  admit  that  the  term  day  is  here 
applied  (not,  indeed,  in  a  different  sense — but  as  among  all 
nations)  to  various  divisions  of  time.  It  first  designates  a  day 
in  the  narrowest  sense  of  the  term,  or  that  period  of  time  which 
is  bounded  by  light  and  darkness,  while  for  the  purpose  of 
chronological  numeration  it  next  indicates  an  entire  day,  includ- 
ing night  and  the  hours  intervening  between  day  and  night. 
Hence  the  entire  day,  wliich  is  counted  as  the  first,  included  the 
four  divisions  (day  and  night,  evening  and  morning),  which 
succeed  one  another.  But  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  divi- 
sion of  time  which  is  here  designated  as  day  was  caused  and 
bounded  by  the  presence  of  natural  light.  Hence  the  evening 
which  followed  such  a  day,  and  the  morning  which  preceded  a 
new  day,  must  similarly  be  regarded  as  parts  of  a  natural  and 
ordinary  day ;  and  the  latter  can  only  be  measured  according  to 
the  natural  and  ordinary  standard,  viz.,  the  occm'rence  of  a  natu- 
ral change  of  light  and  darkness  (day  and  night). 

It  follows,  then,  that  the  creative  days  were  measured  accord- 
ing to  the  appearance  and  disappearance  of  daylight,  the  occur- 
rence of  evening  and  morning.  This  mode  of  measm'ement  is 
implied  in  the  narrative,  and  must  apply  to  all  the  six  days. 
It  is  another  question  whether  the  duration  of  each  of  these  six 
days  was  exactly  of  twenty-four  hours  or  not.  Piobably  such 
was  the  case  at  least  from  the  fourth  day  onward,  since  from  that 
time  the  sim  ruled  the  day  and  the  moon  the  night,  when  in  all 
likelihood  the  same  order  commenced  which  now  prevai]§.  But 
it  is  impossible  to  determine  the  duration  of  the  first  three  days 
in  which  this  arrangement  did  not  yet  i)revail,  and  tlie  durati(»n 
of  daylight  and  of  daiku(>ss  depended  on  laws  with  whicli  at 


XXIV  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

present  we  are  not  acquainted.  The  record  does  not  measure 
the  duration  of  a  day  by  hours,  but  by  the  four  divisions  of  the 
day.  Under  all  circumstances,  then,  we  cannot^  doubt  that  the 
creative  days  were  intended  to  indicate  periods  of  time,  of  which 
each  comprised  a  succession  of  terrestrial  day  and  night.  They 
had  the  same  hmits  which  a  chronological  day  still  has.  The 
declaration  of  Ehrard  that  only  "  narrow-minded  bigotry"  could 
identify  the  creative  with  physical  days,  instead  of  interpreting 
them  as  symbolical,  cannot  shake  these  conclusions. 

We  have  undertaken  to  show  that  the  Biblical  account  of 
creation  is  compatible  with  Astronomy  and  Geology — a  task 
rendered  more  difficult,  or  according  to  some  rendered  impossible, 
by  our  above  remarks.  If  we  have  narrowed  the  basis  on  which 
to  rear  our  arguments,,  we  have  at  least  given  evidence  of  our 
desire  to  have  no  other  foundation  than  that  of  truth. 


§  .5.  CREATION  OF  HEAVEN  AJ^D  EARTH. 

The  narrative  of  creation  commences  with  the  words  :  "  /w  the 
beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth"  If  con- 
sidered by  themselves  and  irrespective  of  their  relation  to  what 
follows,  their  meaning  cannot  be  misunderstood.  No  truth  is 
more  plainly  expressed  in  the  Old  Testament  than  this,  that, 
both  in  respect  of  its  material  and  its  formation,  the  world  had 
not  existed  from  eternity,  but  that  the  God  who  alone  is  from 
everlasting,  and  who  is  the  author  of  all  things,  had  created  it 
in  time  or  rather  along  with  time.  This  fundamental  principle 
of  the  Old  Testament  creed  is  here  placed  at  the  very  threshold 
of  the  record  which  is  to  detail  both  the  primeval  history  of 
Israel  and  what  had  preceded  it.  This  principle  was  distinctively 
Jewish — it  formed  the  starting-point  in  the  religion  of  Israel, 
and  the  basis  and  preliminary  of  their  history.  It  established  a 
line  of  distinction  between  the  people  of  the  Lord  and  the  other 
nations  of  antiquity  who  deified  nature  and  regarded  the  world 
as  self^xistent  and  eternal,  who  did  not  and  would  not  know 
anything  of  a  personal  God,  distinct  from  and  above  the  world. 
The  first  sentence  in  the  sacred  records  of  Israel  embodies  a  pro- 
test against  the  fundamental  error  of  heathenism. 


§  5.  CREATION  OF  HEAVEN  AND  EARTH.         XXT 

But  there  are  some  difficulties  in  the  way  of  explaining  those 
words  when  viewed  in  their  connection  with  the  description  of 
the  six  creative  days  which  immediately  follows.  They  are 
frequently  regarded  as  a  kind  of  heading  or  tahle  of  contents  of 
the  whole  chapter,  as  a  summary  statement  of  the  details  of  the 
six  creative  days  furnished  in  this  chapter.  In  confirmation  of 
this  view  it  is  argued  that  ver.  8  gives  a  special  narrative  of  the 
creation  of  heaven,  and  ver.  10  of  that  of  the  earth.  But  the 
connection  between  verse  1  and  what  immediately  follows  renders 
this  interpretation  impossible.  The  word  '^  and"  ("and  the 
earth  was  without  form  and  void '"')  with  which  the  follo^ying 
sentence  commences  shews  that  both  it,  and,  indeed,  the  whole 
chapter,  is  a  continuation  of  the  narrative  which  commences  in 
ver.  1,  and  also  renders  it  certain  that  the  creation  of  heaven 
and  earth  which  it  records  must  be  regarded  as  having  preceded 
the  six  creative  days.  If  ver.  1  were  simply  a  heading  or  sum- 
mary of  this  chapter,  the  narrative  itself  would  commence  with 
ver.  2,  or  with  "  and."  But  the  commencement  of  a  history  coidd 
not  be  introduced  by  "  and."  Besides,  such  an  interpretation 
might  have  given  rise  to  the  mistake  that  the  expression  "  without 
form  and  void  "  referred  to  an  eternal  chaos,  since  the  narrative 
itself  would  contain  no  mention  of  any  creative  agency  but  only 
of  a  transformation  and  arrangement  of  chaotic  material  already 
in  existence.  Thus  the  idea  of  a  creation  oiU  of  nothing,  which 
is  manifestly  one  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, would  not  be  expressly  mentioned,  and  that  in  a  passage 
where  one  should  naturally  look  for  it — a  silence  which  we  would 
deem  ominous. 

But  while  we  regard  ver.  1  as  an  integral  part  of  the  history 
of  creation,  we  shall  not  attempt  to  deny  that  there  is  a  manifest 
difference,  both  in  tone  and  style,  between  it  and  the  narrative 
which  follows.  The  pictorial  element,  which  appears  so  strikingly 
in  the  rest  of  the  chaptei",  is  licre  awanting.  From  the  absence 
of  this  we  infer  that  ver.  1  did  not  form  part  of  what  had  been 
seen  in  prophetic  vision.  From  the  first  the  seer  belield  the 
earth  already  in  existence,  though  without  form  and  void.  By 
and  bye  he  perceives  how  the  omnipotence  of  the  Divine  wiU  gives 
to  the  earth,  which  as  yet  is  shut  up  in  darkness  and  void  of  life, 
its  present  form,  and  endows  it  with  fulness  of  light  and  life. 
This  the  seer  beheld,  and  this  he  described.      But  whence  this 


XXVI  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

earthy"  without  form  and  void?"  Later  heathenism,  which  had 
lost  all  belief  in  a  living  and  personal  Deity,  regarded  it  as  an 
eternal  and  uncreated  chaos.  To  contradict  this  fearful  mistake 
either  the  prophet,  or  a  later  wi-iter — perhaps  the  author  of 
Genesis — had  prefixed  the  first  sentence  by  way  of  introduction 
to,  or  of  laying  a  basis  for,  the  history  of  the  six  creative  days. 
Hence  ver.  1  is  not  a  heading  of,  but  an  introduction  to,  the  nar- 
rative that  follows  ;  not  a  statement  of  what  was  done  during  the 
six  days,  but  of  what  had  preceded  them.  However,  while  we 
distinguish  between  the  first  and  the  following  verses,  regarding 
the  latter  as  derived  from  prophetic  vision,  and  the  former  as 
the  necessary  conclusion  of  a  pious  mind,  we  do  not  thereby 
mean  to  say  that  part  of  this  chapter  is  a  Divine  revelation,  and 
part  of  it  the  mere  expression  of  human  opinion.  We  regard 
both  as  alike  inspired,  and  as  dififering  only  in  this  respect,  that 
the  one  was  the  result  of  Divinely  enlightened  thinking,  the  other 
of  Divinely  enlightened  vision. 


§  6.    STATE  OF  THE  EARTH  PREVIOUS  TO  THE  SIX  CREATIVE  DAYS. 

The  connection  between  ver.  1  and  the  account  of  the  six 
creative  days  may  be  explained  in  one  of  two  ways.  That  verse 
may  be  regarded  as  referring  to  the  creation  of  the  elements 
composing  the  original  material  out  of  which  the  Creator,  dmiug 
the  six  days,  formed  the  present  earth.  In  that  case  the  expres- 
sion :  "  without  form  and  void,"  of  ver.  2,  would  indicate  a 
temporary  absence  of  light  and  life,  and  that  the  development 
had  not  yet  been  completed.  Or  ver.  1  may  be  understood  as 
relating  to  ?i  primeval  creation,  coinplete  in  itself,  but  which,  by 
some  catastrophe,  had  become  desolate  and  dark  (as  described  in 
ver.  2) — in  which  case  the  work  of  the  six  creative  days  would 
be  a  restitution  or  new  creation  of  the  earth  which  had  become 
desolate.  The  narrative  before  us  does  not  decide  this  point. 
The  writer  does  not  inform  us  whether  the  earth  had  been  created 
"  without  form  and  void,"  or  whether  and  by  what  process  it  had 
become  such.  Nor  does  it  lie  within  his  province  to  pronounce 
on  that  question,  since,  as  a  truthful  witness,  he  only  relates  ivhat 
he  has  actually  seen.  To  speculate  upon  or  to  explain  this  point 
is  foreign  to  his  purpose. 


§  6.    THE  EARTH  PREVIOUS  TO  THE  BIX  CREATIVE  DAYS.      XXvii 

It  lias,  indeed,  been  urged  by  some,  that  tlie  expression 
"  heavens  and  earth,"  in  ver.  1,  cannot  refer  to  the  unformed  and 
elementary  material  of  the  world  which  could  have  been  desig- 
nated by  the  terms :  "  heavens  and  earth,"  only  after  it  had  been 
properly  separated  and  fully  moulded.  But  the  remark  is  true 
only  in  part,  nor  is  it  sufficient  to  bear  out  the  desired  inference. 
The  expression  "  heavens  and  earth  "  implies  that  these  worlds 
had  become  formed  and  separated,  although  not  that  they  had 
been  fully  moulded  or  perfected.  This  is  proved  by  ver.  2,  at 
least  so  far  as  the  earth  is  concerned.  For  there  our  globe,  while 
still  waste  and  desolate,  and  before  it  had  assumed  its  present 
form,  is  expressly  designated  as  "  the  earth" — and  rightly  so, 
since  it  ah-eady  existed  as  a  distinct  body,  separate  from  all 
others.  The  same  remark  no  doubt  appUes  to  the  other  heavenly 
bodies,  although  the  narrative,  which  details  only  what  more 
particularly  refers  to  the  earth,  does  not  specially  advert  to 
them. 

Another  argument  in  favour  of  the  second,  and  against  the 
first  of  the  above  views,  has  been  drawn  from  the  words  "  tliohu 
vahohu^'  ("  without  form  and  void.")  The  expression,  so  far  as 
its  etymology  is  concerned,  is  doubtful.  In  the  other  passages 
in  which  it  occurs  (Isa.  xxxiv.  11,  Jer.  iv.  23),  it  certainly  refers 
to  actual  c?evastation  and  (desolation,  succeeding  a  former  state 
of  life  and  fruitfulness,  and  not  to  any  natural  absence  of  life, 
nor  to  a  lower  stage  of  development,  in  which  Hfe  has  not  yet 
appeared.  It  has  accordingly  been  inferred  that  in  Gen.  i.  2  it 
must  also  denote  a  similar  state  of  matters.  But  this  reason- 
ing is  not  conclusive,  since  the  Hebrew  terms,  like  the  Enghsh 
word  "  waste,"  may  be  so  comprehensive  as  to  indicate  both 
ideas.  Delitzsch,  even  while  objecting  to  the  rendering  of  the 
words  by  "  devastation  and  desolation,''  felt  that  "  both  the 
meaning  and  the  sound  of  these  words  in  their  assonance  was 
designed  to  inspire  terror."  An  interpretation  according  to 
which  the  thohu  vdbolm  was  merely  indicative  of  the  absence  of 
form  and  order,  would,  in  his  opinion,  not  exhaust  the  ideas  im- 
plied in  its  etymology.  This  sense  of  awe  is  increased  by  the 
mention  of  the  darkness  which  brooded  over  the  face  of  the 
deep,  and  of  the  raging  waters.  '■  Darkness"  (choshech),  our 
author  observes,  "  is  the  form  under  which  Scriptun^  presents 


XXVlll  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

and  symbolises  sin  and  evil,  but  especially  Divine  vengeance ; 
darkness  is  the  ungodly  element  which  must  and  shall  be  over- 
come ;  in  the  new  Jerusalem  there  is  no  night  (Rev.  xxi.  25 ; 
xxii.  5).  '  Th'hom'  is  the  deep  to  which  bounds  were  as- 
signed when  the  earth  was  formed  (Prov.  viii.  27  ;  Ps.  xxxiii. 
7  ;  Job  xxxviii.  8 — 11),  and  which  are  only  passed  when 
nature  revolts  against  man  (Gen.  vii.  11  ;  viii.  2)  ;  between  the 
sea,  death,  and  Hades  there  is  some  kind  of  connection  (Job 
xxxviii.  16,  &c.  ;  Eev.  xx.  13).  The  raging  ivaters  (mojim) 
are  a  representation  of  the  raging  of  the  heathen ;  thence  also 
arise  the  beasts  or  hostile  powers  which  Daniel  and  the  book  of 
Revelation  describe  ;  from  the  face  of  the  renewed  earth  the  sea 
shall  disappear  (Eev.  xxi.  1).  It  cannot  be  denied  that  all  the 
expressions  in  ver.  2  (with  the  exception  of  the  last  clause)'  have 
their  analogue  in  the  kingdom  of  Satan."  But  all  this,  however 
true,  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  proof  that  in  this  passage  also  the 
writer  had  intended  to  attach  to  them  the  meaning  of  evil  which 
they  bear  in  the  figurative  language  of  later  prophets. 

It  has  also  been  argued  that  since  the  Lord  is  a  God  of  light 
and  life,  only  a  bright  world  of  life  which  reflected  His  own 
blessedness  and  holiness,  and  not  a  dark  waste  and  a  void  chaos, 
could  have  proceeded  from  His  creative  hand.  Even  while  in 
an  imperfect  state,  it  is  said,  any  work  proceeding  from  the  hand 
of  God  would  not  correspond  with  the  description  in  ver.  2, 
since,  according  to  the  measure  of  its  development  and  capacity, 
it  would  necessarily  reflect  Divine  harmony  and  order,  Divine 
light  and  life.  We  might  admit  that  the  narrator  had  here 
purposely  chosen  indefinite  terms,  and  yet,  on  other  grounds, 
conclude  that  the  language  he  employs,  rightly  understood,  im- 
plies that  a  devastation  had  taken  place.  This  reasoning  is  not 
without  force.  Although  we  cannot  regard  it  as  afi'ording  a 
satisfactory  proof,  it  adds  to  the  weight  of  other  arguments  in 
favour  of  this  view.^ 

1  The  assertion,  so  frequently  made,  that  ver.  2  may  or  should  be  trans- 
lated "  And  the  earth  became  waste  and  void,"  is  grammatically  false.  In 
that  case  the  writer  would  have  used  the  expression  V'^J^^n  TTiTl?  ^^^  "^^^ 
pyf^ipl  V'^t^ni'  ^"'i  to  avoid  all  ambiguity  he  would  have  added  the  pre- 

T  : IT     I     V  T  IT    : 

position  'n  after  the  verb  n'^M-    Drechsler  tries  to  show  from  the  structure  of 


§  7.    THE  FIRST,  SECOND,  AND  THIRD  CREATIVE  DAYS.       XXIX 

Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  narrator  only  described  what 
he  actuall)'-  saw,  without  specially  indicating  in  what  light  all 
this  should  be  regarded,  or  iu  what  relation  ver.  2  stood  to  ver. 
1.  Eeaders  might  either  understand  his  language  as  implying 
that  in  the  beginning  there  had  been  an  absence  of  light  and 
life,  in  which  case  they  would  be  led  to  believe  in  a  chaos,  or 
they  might,  in  accordance  with  the  later  usus  loquencU  of  the 
prophets,  aj^ply  the  terms  to  an  actual  devastation.  But  as  ver. 
1  excluded  the  idea  of  an  eternal  hostile  chaos,  they  would  have 
to  fall  back  upon  the  second  view,  with  the  understanding  that 
some  hostile  power  had  introduced  desolation  into  what  had 
originally  been  a  fair,  pure,  and  glorious  handiwork  of  the  Lord. 
This  inference  woidd  be  further  confirmed  by  the  circumstance, 
that  in  chap.  iii.  the  existence  and  influence  of  such  a  hostile 
power  is  indicated.  But  as  that  chapter  also  did  not  remove 
the  mystery  connected  with  that  enemy,  both  passages  could  only 
lead  to  further  enquiry,  and  call  forth  a  desire  for  more  full  in- 
struction. We  shall,  for  the  present,  leave  this  subject,  with 
the  remark,  that  Gen.  i,  taken  by  itself,  neither  proves  nor  dis- 
proves the  view  that  the  earth  had  been  laid  waste  at  some 
period  between  the  first  creation  of  heavens  and  earth  and  their 
restoration  during  the  six  creative  days. 


§  7.    THE  FIRST,  THE  SECOND,  AND  THE  THIRD  CREATIVE  DAYS. 

The  earth  was  waste  and  void,  and  darkness  covered  the  deep. 
Left  unrestrained  and  in  wild  confusion,  the  elements  were 
mixed  up,  nor  could  the  seer  descry  order  or  harmony,  light  or 
life.  But  this  state  was  not  to  continue.  Already  he  discovered 
the  Spirit  of  God  breathing  into  this  waste  the  breath  of  life, 

ver.  2,  that  it  could  not  have  been  intended  to  describe  the  state  in  which,  ac- 
cording to  ver.  1,  God  had  created  the  earth.  Ver.  2,  he  remarks,  consists 
of  three  parts — the  earth  was  waste  and  void,  and  darkness  upon  the  deep, 
and  the  Spirit  moved  over  the  waters.  But  as  the  copula  "  and"  connects  the 
first  with  the  other  two  clauses,  it  would  follow  that  if  we  were  to  interjiret 
"  God  created  the  earth  waste,  void,  and  dark,"  we  should  have  to  add  that  ho 
created  it  with  the  Spirit  of  God  moving  over  it.  But  this  reasoning  is  not 
by  any  means  conclusive,  since  it  may  be  replied  that  ver.  2  does  not  inform 
us  in  what  state  God  had  created  the  earth,  but  only  as  to  its  condition  after 
it  had  been  created. 


XXX  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

and  moving  over  the  waters.  His  breath  would  banish  the 
waste  and  desolation ;  already  the  germs  of  life  awaited  the 
moment  when,  being  set  free,  they  should  unfold.  Then  issued 
the  word  of  Omnipotence,  "  Let  there  he  light,  and  it  loas  light." 
Suddenly,  liberated  from  its  bonds,  light  breaks  from  the  dense 
darkness  around,  the  first  token  of  life,  and  the  condition  of  all 
further  development.  Light,  the  iirst  creature  of  God,  and  the 
emblem  of  His  own  glory,  bears  the  impress  of  being  well  pleasing 
in  His  sight ;  whoever  sees  the  light,  hails  it  as  the  messenger 
of  Divine  goodness.  God  saio  that  the  light  ivas  good.  The 
darkness  which  covered  the  deep  had  enshrouded  the  light ;  hut 
God  separated  the  light  from  the  darJcness.  Thus  the  light  at- 
tained liberty  and  independent  existence.  No  longer  is  it  en- 
closed by  darkness ;  it  exists  along  with  and  superior  to  dark- 
ness, over  which  it  now  rules,  and  to  which  it  gives  life.  The 
light  is  called  day,  the  darkness  night.  The  work  of  the  first 
day  is  finished.  Even  and  morn  come,  and  the  first  day  being 
completed  merges  into  the  second. 

A  new  day  has  broken.  A  movement  in  the  waters  which 
still  cover  the  earth  has  been  called  forth  by  another  creative 
word  ;  they  also  are  to  bring  forth  what  hitherto  lay  concealed 
in  their  depths.  And  God  said,  Let  there  he  a  firmament  (ex- 
pansion, "  7'aMah")  to  divide  the  waters,  and  he  called  the  fir- 
mament Heaven.  This  was  the  sky,  that  pure  and  transparent 
expanse  of  air  above  us,  the  atmosphere  with  its  inexliaustible 
springs  of  life  and  blessing,  providing  the  necessary  means  of 
nom-ishment  to  every  kind  of  living  beings  that  were  to  appear 
on  earth.  This  sky  rests  on  the  waters  of  the  earth,  and  like  a 
firm  arch  supports  the  oceans  of  heaven.  Thus  it  divides  the 
upper  from  the  lower  waters,  the  sea  from  the  clouds  which  rise 
from  it,  that  in  turn  they  also  may  become  a  spring  of  blessing 
and  fruitfulness  to  the  dry  land  when  it  shall  have  been  emanci- 
pated from  the  dominion  of  the  sea. 

The  third  day  witnessed  two  consecutive  and  connected  acts 
of  creation — the  separation  of  the  sea  from  the  dry  land,  and  the 
clothing  of  the  latter  with  vegetation.  As  on  the  first  day  the 
light  was  set  free  from  the  bonds  of  darkness,  and  on  the  second 
the  sky,  with  its  springs  of  blessing,  its  rain  and  fruitful  seasons, 
was  called  from  the  chaotic  waters  of  primeval  earth,  so  the 


§  8.  THE  WORK  OF  THE  FOURTH  DAY.  XXXi 

creative  word  of  tlie  third  day  set  free  the  earth  from  the  domi- 
nion of  the  sea,  which  till  then  had  engiilphed  and  covered 
everything.  For  as  the  polar  opposition  and  the  reciprocal  rela- 
tion of  light  and  darkness,'  of  day  and  night,  of  earth  and  air,  of 
sea  and  clouds,  is  the  ultimate  condition  of  life  and  prosperity, 
so  also  is  the  permanent  distribution  of  land  and  water  the  con- 
dition of  all  further  development  on  the  earth,  and  a  guarantee 
of  the  continuance  and  well-being  of  the  creatures  which  inhabit 
land  and  sea.  The  dry  land  is  the  habitation  of  the  noblest  of 
God's  creatures  ;  therefore  the  creative  word  of  Omnipotence 
liberated  it  from  the  dominion  of  the  sea,  and  assigned  to  the 
latter  its  bounds.  The  tumult  which  now  arises  is  described  in 
Ps.  civ.  5—9  :— 

"  He  hath  founded  the  eai-th  upon  her  bases, 
She  is  not  removed  for  ever. 
The  deep,  as  with  a  garment,  hast  Thou  covered, 
The  waters  stood  above  the  mountains. 
At  Thy  rebuke  they  fled, 

At  the  voice  of  Thy  thunder  they  hasted  away — 
The  mountains  ascended,  the  valleys  descended, 
To  the  place  which  Thou  hadst  founded  for  them — 
Thou  hast  set  a  bound  which  they  do  not  pass  over, 
They  do  not  return  to  cover  the  earth." 

When  thus  the  water  had  been  gathered  and  the  dry  land  had 
appeared,  Earth,  whicli  the  breath  of  the  Divine  Spirit  as  He 
moved  over  the  primeval  waste,  had  endued  with  seeds  and 
germs,  in  obedience  to  the  creative  command  displayed  its 
glorious  vegetation  in  all  the  beauty  of  variegated  colours,  and 
with  its  precious  fruits.  Still,  as  the  vegetable  world  clung  to 
the  soil,  like  a  splendid  robe  covering  its  nakedness,  it  had 
not  an  independent  existence  of  its  own.  Hence  it  originated 
on  the  same  day  which  witnessed  the  liberation  of  the  dry  land, 
whose  property,  so  to  speak,  it  was. 


§  8.    THE  WORK  OP  THE  FOURTH  DAY. 

Thus  the  formation  of  the  earth,  as  a  globe  existing  by  itself, 


XXXll  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

bad  been  completed.      On  tbe  fourtli  day  tbe  relation  between 
earth  and  the  other  heavenly  bodies  was  fixed.  ^ 

In  the  Rakiah  or  expanse  of  heaven  the  Word  of  the  Almighty 
placed  sun,  moon,  and  stars  to  divide  the  day  from,  the  night, 
and  to  he  signs :  both  for  seasons,  and  for  days  and  years,  and 
to  he  for  lights,  to  give  light  upon  the  earth  ;  the  greater  light 
to  ride  the  d^y  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night.  It 
has  been  matter  of  dispute  whether  these  stars  of  the  fourth 
day  are  to  be  understood  as  the  whole  starry  heavens  with 
their  millions  of  fixed  stars,  their  milky  ways,  and  groups  of 
stars,  or  only  as  the  stars  of  our  solar  system.  We  have 
latterly  seen  cause  to  adopt  the  former  of  these  views.  With- 
out repeating  the  arguments  which  we  had  formerly  ad- 
vanced for  the  opposite  view,  we  may  observe  that  any  such 
distinction  between  our  solar  system  and  the  starry  heavens 
generally  would  imply  astronomical  distinctions  which  we  are 
sure  lay  beyond  the  pm'port  of  the  writer.  The  narrative  has  a 
purely  religious  aim,  and  professes  not  to  treat  either  of  Astro- 
nomy or  of  Geology.  It  brings  before  us,  first,  the  relation 
between  God  and  the  world,  then  that  between  man  and  the 
other  creatures  (showing  that  he  occupies  the  highest  point  in 
the  scale  of  creation),  and  lastly,  the  typical  relation  between 
the  creative  week  and  the  duties  and  occupations  of  life.  The 
first  of  these  objects  is  clearly  expressed  in  the  words  (ver.  1)  : 
"  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth." 
Each  word  in  that  verse  has   an  important  bearing  npon  our 

1  Hojmann,  and  after  him  Delitzsch,  take  a  diiFerent  view  of  the  progress 
in  the  AYork  of  creation.  They  hold  that  on  the  fourth  day  the  scale  of  creation 
rises,  "  since  the  heavenly  bodies,  separated  from  the  mass,  and  passing  on 
their  immeasurable  paths,  constitute  a  higher  stage  than  the  plants  which 
are  rooted  in  the  ground,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they  occupy  a  lower  place 
than  the  creatures  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  days — animals  and  man — which  are 
capable  of  voluntary  motion."  But  we  apprehend  that  such  a  view  would 
make  of  our  narrative  a  poor  piece  of  speculation.  For  if  the  narrative  is  to 
be  regarded  as  a  description  of  what  had  really  taken  place,  and  the  narrator 
as  expressing  the  mind  of  the  Creator,  so  that  in  His  view  the  heavenly 
bodies  occupy  a  position  intermediate  between  plants  and  animals,  the  for- 
mer having  been  created  before,  the  latter  after  these  heavenly  bodies — 
natural  science  will  urge  against  this  supposed  scale  in  creation  arguments  so 
powerful  that  the  defender  of  the  Bible  will  scarcely  be  able  to  make  way 
against  them.  We  shall,  therefore,  either  have  to  give  up  this  view,  or  else 
to  admit  that  the  narrative  does  not  embody  objective  truth,  but  is  a  piece  of 
speculation,  and  that  one  of  second  rate  ability. 


§  8.  Tiii:  wouK  OF  THE  rouiixn  DAY.  xxxiii 

religious  knowledge,  both  from  the  fimdiimental  truths  which  it 
affirms  and  the  dangerous  errors  which  it  rehuts.  The  simple 
statement  of  the  fact  might  have  been  sufficient  for  the  purpose 
which  the  narrative  had  in  view.  But  if  there  had  been  no  more 
than  a  general  and  abstract  sentence,  the  important  truths  enun- 
ciated might — especially  among  Orientals,  whose  minds  chiefly 
grasp  and  retain  what  is  concrete — have  been  readily  overlooked 
or  passed  by.  Even  on  that  ground,  therefore,  it  was  necessary 
to  present  them  in  a  concrete  form  as  a  tangible  and  outward 
reality,  thus  impressing  them  on  the  mind  of  the  reader.  Still 
more  w^as  this  requisite  if  the  other  objects  of  the  narrative  w^cre 
to  be  carried  out,  and  the  cosmical  and  moral  position  of  man 
to  be  impressed  on  the  consciousness. 

It  was  ibr  these  purposes  that  the  seer,  or  rather  the  Spirit 
whose  organ  he  was,  detailed  what  took  place  during  the  six 
creative  days.  Hence,  also,  are  we  not  warranted  in  putting 
into  the  narrative  an  astronomical  distinction  between  the 
planetary  heavens  and  those  of  the  fixed  stars  to  which  no  allu- 
sion is  made.  Such  a  distinction  might,  indeed,  have  been  of 
importance  even  in  a  religious  point  of  view,  but  if  intended 
would  no  doubt  have  been  plainly  mentioned.  We  should  the 
more  readily  have  expected  this,  since  such  a  distinction  was 
made  from  the  oldest  time.  But  the  cucumstance  that  it  is  not 
expressed,  nor  even  hinted  at,  shows  that,  however  important  at 
a  later  period  and  for  other  purposes,  it  lay  beyond  the  aim  of 
the  narrator  at  the  time.  If  ver.  IG  speaks  of  stars  generally, 
without  limiting  the  term  to  any  special  kind  of  stars,  even  the 
fact  that  no  emphasis  is  laid  on  it  proves  that  the  expression 
must  not  in  any  way  be  limited,  but  taken  in  its  more  wide  and 
general  acceptation.  Nor  is  there  any  force  in  the  objection 
that  since  sun,  moon,  and  the  stars  of  the  fourth  day  are  set  in 
the  Rakiah  of  the  second  day  which  sprang  from  the  earth,  they 
must  be  \aewed  as  belonging  to  the  earth,  in  a  physical  pouit  of 
view.  For  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  definition  of 
Rakiah  as  terrestrial  atmosphere  is  that  of  natural  science,  while 
in  common  parlance  the  term  w^as  much  wider,  and  embraced 
also  what  in  modern  times  is  called  the  cosmical  ether.  If, 
besides,  w^e  bear  in  mind  that  the  narrative  is  not  an  astronomical 
or  physical  manual,  wo  shall  not  deem  it  more  strange  tlmt 


XXXIV  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

scientifically  inaccurate — or,  if  you  choose,  erroneous — terms 
should  have  been  employed  by  the  writer  than  we  are  in  the  habit 
of  taking  exception  to  such  expressions  as  the  "  rising"  or  the 
"  going  down  "  of  the  sun.  The  seer  simply  described  what  he 
saw ;  and,  no  doubt  he  beheld  the  fixed  stars  in  the  same 
heaven  as  the  planets.  Nor  can  we  admit  the  validity  of  the 
objection,  that  since  the  narrative  manifestly  treats  only  of  the 
earth  and  of  what  bears  reference  to  it,  the  stars  of  the  fourth 
day  must  have  been  those  of  our  solar  system.  This  would 
oblige  us  to  suppose  that  ver.  16  also  refers  only  to  such  heavenly 
bodies  as  form  along  with  our  earth  one  physical  system.  Besides, 
there  is  not  the  least  intimation  that  the  sun  and  moon  are  only 
mentioned,  because,  in  a  physical  and  astronomical  point  of  view, 
they  form  one  system  with  our  earth  ;  nay,  this  view  is  entirely 
contrary  to  the  spirit  and  tendency  of  the  narrative.  The  latter 
takes  no  notice  of  any  such  physical  connection,  and  only  adverts 
to  the  circumstance  that  the  sun  gives  light  by  day  and  the 
moon  by  night.  This  remark  also  applies  to  the  stars  (ver.  17) 
— and  manifestly  the  fixed  stars  answer  ihat  purpose  as  much, 
and  more,  than  the  planets. 

Again,  since  the  narrative  only  records  what  sun,  moon,  and 
stars  are  in  relation  to  the  earth,  without  entering  on  the  ques- 
tion of  what  they  are  in  themselves,  it  is  a  grievous  mistake  to 
overlook  the  prophetic  character  of  this  vision,  and  to  press  the 
words  as  if  they  implied  that  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  had  been 
created,  or  called  forth  out  of  nothing,  only  on  the  fourth  day,  or 
after  the  earth  had  been  fully  formed.  The  record  does  not 
give  any  information  either  as  to  ivhat  these  heavenly  bodies  are 
in  themselves  or  as  to  the  period  and  the  mode  in  which  they 
were  created  to  be  what  they  are  in  themselves.  It  is,  indeed, 
true  that  the  work  of  the  fourth  day,  like  those  of  the  other  days, 
is  introduced  by :  "  God  said :  Let  there  be  !"  But  then  the  pur- 
pose which  the  stars  are  to  serve — "  to  be  for  lights  to  give  light 
upon  the  earth" — ^is  immediately  added.  If  formerly  they  had  not 
been  and  now  for  the  first  time  became  such,  the  language  of  the 
narrative  is  completely  viudicated,  since  the  regulation  of  this 
relationship  between  the  starry  heavens  and  the  earth  is  quite  as 
much  a  creative  act  as  that  of  the  relation  between  light-  and 
darlmess,  or  between  the  dry  land  and  the  sea.      It  is  in  this 


§  8.    THE  WORK  OF  THE  TOUllTH  DAY.  XXXV 

sense  that  we  are  told  that  "  God  placed  them  in  tlie  Rakiah  of 
the  heaven."  For  as  "  rakiah"  means  the  terrestrial  sky,  the 
stars,  even  though  created  hefore  the  second  day,  coukl  not  he 
regarded  as  in  the  rakiah,  which  was  only  created  on  the  second 
day,  and  could  only  occupy  a  place  in  that  sky  after  they  had 
assumed  a  relation  to  the  earth.  Equally  plain  is  the  meaning 
of  the  expression  in  ver.  IG,  "  God  made  sun,  moon,  and  stars." 
He  now  first  adapted  them  for  the  earth,  and  in  relation  to  it 
they  commenced  only  then  to  exist.  But  this  does  not  imply 
that  they  had  not  been  created  long  before  that  to  exist  hy  them- 
selves and/o?'  the  purposes  ichich  they  ivere  to  serve  independently 

of  the  earth. 

...  .         .  V 

The   result  of  our  investigations  then  briefly  is,  that  vers. 

14 — 19  refer  to  the  starry  heavens  (including  the  fixed  stars), 
but  without  necessarily  implying  that  they  were  only  created 
after  the  earth  had  been  formed.  The  question  as  to  the  period  . 
of  their  creation  we  leave  in  the  meantime  unansvfered.  It 
yet  remains  to  illustrate  the  relation  between  this  event,  the 
creation  of  heaven  (ver.  1),  the  production  of  light,  and  the 
separation  of  the  upper  waters  (ver.  7).  Ebrard,  Ndgelshach, 
Rougemont,  and  Delifzsch,  regard  these  upper  waters  as  the  sub- 
stratum of  the  heavenly  bodies  created  on  the  fourth  day  ;  with 
this  difference  that  the  three  first  mentioned  writers  under- 
stand that  the  heavenly  bodies  of  our  solar  system  only  were  then 
formed,  while  Delitzsch  extends  the  creative  work  of  that  day 
also  to  the  fixed  stars  and  the  milky  ways.  This  view  we  deem 
erroneous,  since  we  cannot  discover  the  slightest  hint  of  any 
production  of  these  heavenly  bodies  from  the  upper  waters. 
Besides,  it  is  opposed  to  later  statements  of  Holy  Writ,  accord- 
ing to  whicli  the  u})per  waters  still  exist  (Ps.  cxlviii.  4,  civ.  5  ; 
Job  xxvi.  8).  If  we  were  to  assume  that  the  heavenly  bodies 
themselves  were  created  on  the  fourth  day,  and  not  merely  that 
then  they  began  to  exist  so  far  as  our  earth  was  concerned,  and 
that  like  our  earth  they  were  formed  out  of  some  existing 
material,  we  should  expect  to  find  some  notice  of  this  circum- 
stance in  ver.  1  and  not  in  ver,  7.  For  tlic  combination  of 
elements  which  were  afterwards  separated  into  upper  and  lower 
waters  is  in  ver.  2  called  "  earth,"  and  not  *'  earth  and  heaven." 
Hence  they  can  onlv  have  served  as  substratum  for  the  forma- 

c2 


XXXVl  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

tion  of  the  earth,  and  not  for  that  of  both  earth  and  heaven.  If, 
therefore,  the  heavenly  bodies  were  formed  from  any  substratum, 
this  could  only  have  been  the  heaven  to  which  ver.  1  refers,  and 
which  existed  before  the  six  creative  days  had  commenced. 
Lastly,  the  narrative  furnishes  direct  information  as  to  the  rela- 
tion between  the  lights  created  on  the  fourth  day — more  especially 
the  sun — and  the  light  created  on  the  first  day.  Light  ("■  or" J 
was  created  on  the  first  day,  the  luminaries  or  light-bearers 
/^"  maoroth" )  on  the  fourth  day.  Light  was  not  originally  con- 
fined to  the  sun.  This  arrangement  only  took  place  when  the 
cosmical  formation  of  the  earth  had  so  far  proceeded  as  to  render 
an  antagonism  of  solar  and  planetary  polarity  possible.  The 
former  alternation  of  light  and  darkness,  of  day  and  night,  must 
have  arisen  from  telluric  action  and  re-action  which  ceased  when 
this  antagonism  became  established.  Farther  details  the  narra- 
tive does  not  furnish. 


§  9.    THE  WORK  OF  THE  FIFTH  AND  SIXTH  DAYS. 

So  soon  as  the  cosQnical  conditions  of  organic  life  were  pro- 
vided and  the  chaotic  confusion  of  elements  and  forces  had 
given  place  to  a  regulated  and  harmonic  relation,  the  germs  of 
life  hid  in  the  womb  of  earth  were  set  free,  and  at  the  command 
of  Omnipotence  the  most  diversified  degrees  and  stages  of  life 
made  their  appearance.  Already  on  the  third  day  had  vegetation 
been  called  forth  ;  on  the  fifth  and  sixth  days  the  scale  of  crea- 
tion ascended  from  the  fish  in  the  sea  to  the  eagle  which  soars  to 
the  sky,  from  the  worm  which  creeps  in  the  dust  to  man  who 
lifts  his  head  to  the  stars,  and  represents  the  climax  and  comple- 
tion of  terrestrial  life.  The  narrative  introduces  man  as  the  last 
work,  and — since  tliere  is  manifestly  a  rise  from  the  lower  to  the 
higher  scale  of  being — as  the  highest  in  creation.  This  progress 
is  physically  represented  in  the  fact  that  every  higher  stage  of 
being  includes  all  the  lower,  and  at  the  same  time  exhibits  some 
new  development  of  life.  Thus  the  purely  cosmical  elements 
form  the  basis  of  the  peculiar  life  of  the  vegetable  kingdom.  In 
the  animal  kingdom  we  descry,  besides  the  voluntary  activity 
which  is  its  peculiar  characteristic,  also  numerous  invohmtary 


§  9.    THE  WORK  OF  THE  FIFTH  AND  SIXTH  DAYS.         XXXvii 

functions  which,  properly  speaking,  form  part  of  the  sphere  of 
vegetable  life.  Lastly,  in  man  we  discover  besides  the  three 
lower  stages  of  life — the  cosmical,  the  vegetable,  and  the  animal 
— a  fourth  and  much  higher,  viz.,  the  sphere  of  personality  and 
of  moral  freedom — the  image  of  God  appearing  in  his  creature. 
The  narrative  pourtrays  the  work  of  creation  as  it  were  a 
pyramid,  of  which  heaven  and  earth  are  the  broad  basis,  and 
man  the  one  top-stone.  He  is  the  representative  of  all  former 
stages  of  existence,  the  unit  in  which  the  multiplicity  of  earthly 
creatures  terminates.  Although  both  the  turn  of  thouglit  and 
the  form  of  expression  is  foreign  to  the  narrative,  yet  it  quite 
accords  with  its  idea  when  we  designate  man  as  the  microcosm 
and  the  centre  of  this  world. ^  In  verse  26,  he  is  expressly  set 
apart  as  ruler  of  all  creation,  of  its  varied  forces  and  creatures. 
His  calling  and  his  endowments  for  it  are  expressly  mentioned. 
He  is  the  last  and  the  most  perfect  being  formed  from  that  earth 
to  which  himself  belongs,  and  whose  every  stage  of  life  he  in- 
cludes in  himself  Hence  he  is  also  qualified  to  be  its  represen- 
tative, both  so  far  as  he  is  personally  concerned,  and  in  relation 
to  every  higher  sphere  of  existence.  But  as  the  image  of  God, 
he  is  also  of  Divine  origin,  and  hence  above  nature,  and  the  re- 
presentative of  God  to  it,  its  lord  and  master,  its  priest  and 
mediator.  Creation  having  been  thus  completed,  the  record 
adds,  '^  And  God  saiu  everything  he  had  made,  and  behold  it 
was  very  good." 

1  Most  apt  is  the  saying  of  Theodorus  (in  Theodoret,  Quaest.  xx.  in  Gen.) 
"  that  God  had  created  last  avv8(afjiov  anuuTuiv  tov  avdpoinov  (man  the  bond 
and  summary  of  all) ;"  and  not  less  beautiful  and  true  that  of  Augustine, 
"  Nullum  est  crcaturse  genus,  quod  non  in  homine  possit  agnosci."  Naj;  the 
same  idea  is  embodied  and  symbolised  even  in  the  apparently  absurd  Haggada 
of  the  Rabbins,  to  the  effect  that  when  Adam  came  from  the  baud  of  the 
Creator  he  was  so  big  as  to  reach  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  from  one  end  of 
the  world  to  the  other ;  but  that  when  he  sinned  God  had  laid  his  hand  on 
him,  and  he  shrunk  to  his  present  size.  The  name  of  the  first  man  also 
— Adam,  from  Adamah,  earth — represents  him,  if  we  translate  the  idea  into 
our  own  terminology,  as  the  microcosm  of  this  world.  On  this  Umhreit  well 
remarks,  "  The  name  given  to  man  implied  that  he  represented  the  whole 
earth,  and  as  its  lord  and  master  comprehended  it  in  his  own  form." 


XXXVm  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 


§  10.    THE  PRIMEVAL  HISTORY  OF  MAN. 

The  account  of  the  six  creative  days  closes  with  the  rest  of 
God  oil  the  seventh  day,  and  with  its  being  set  apart,  that  in  it 
man  also  should  rest.  Passing  from  this,  we  come  upon  a  new 
portion  of  Divine  revelation,  of  different  tendency  indeed,  but  no 
less  grand,  and  in  some  respects  even  more  important  than  the 
former.  For  centuries  men  have  criticised  and  cavilled  at  what 
it  relates ;  faith  has  been  strengthened  by  it,  true  wisdom 
nourished,  while  unbelief  has  scoffed  or  been  offended.  On  this 
foundation  the  Avhole  building  of  revelation,  fitly  joined  together, 
has  grown  into  an  holy  temple  of  the  Spirit.  Here  we  behold 
the  root  whence  salvation  in  Christ,  with  its  blossoms  in  the  Old, 
and  its  fruits  in  the  New  Testament,  has  sprung.  If  the  first 
section  forms  the  basis  of  history  in  general,  the  second  (chaps, 
ii.  and  iii.)  forms  that  of  the  history  of  redemption.  The  former 
indicates  the  position  of  God  as  above  the  world,  as  the  Creator 
of  heaven  and  earth,  and  assigns  to  each  creature,  but  especially 
to  man,  his  proper  position  and  sphere  in  the  general  plan  of 
the  world.  It  also  points  out  tlieir  proper  development,  even  to 
its  ultimate  goal,  but  it  does  not  detail  the  history  of  that  de- 
velopment, as  such  a  narrative  would  have  destroyed  the  unity  of 
its  plan  and  execution.  The  second  section  presupposes  the 
first,  but  has  a  totally  different  tendency.  It  brings  before  us 
God  IN  His  world,  as  the  Father  and  Instructor,  who  in  love  con- 
descends to  His  pupil,  and  adapts  Himself  to  his  growing  know- 
ledge— ^who  introduces  and  announces  salvation.  If  the  first 
section  exhibits  the  work  and  purpose  of  God  in  creation,  and 
the  Divine  destiny  of  man,  the  second  describes  man's  free 
choice  and  development,  and  God's  care,  provision,  and  training, 
both  before,  during,  and  after  that  choice  had  been  made.  The 
central  point  of  this  section  is  chap,  iii.,  which  gives  an  account 
of  the  Fall  as  the  root  of  all  misery,  the  occasion  of  redemption, 
and  the  commencement  of  the  history  of  manliind.  It  describes 
the  trial  of  man's  self-determination,  which  through  his  guilt  led 
to  such  sad  consequences,  arrested  his  original  destiny,  and  on 
the  interposition  of  Divine  grace,  made  a  new  development  ne- 


§   11.    POSITION  AND  TASK  OF  THE  FIRST  MAN.  XXxlx 

cessary,  for  which  new  means  and  powers  had  to  be  furnished. 
However  complete  in  itself,  the  history  of  the  six  creative  days 
is  not  sufficient  to  explain  the  fall,  the  guilt  of  man,  or  the  grace 
of  God.  The  history  of  this  all- important  event  required  a  basis 
such  as  that  furnished  in  chap.  ii.  There  we  are  informed  that 
man  was  formed  of  dust  and  ashes.  While  this  shows  the  guilt 
and  folly  of  his  jiride  when  ivithout  God  he  would  attempt  to 
become  as  God,  it  also  explains  how,  in  consequence  of  the  curse 
attaching  to  sin,  he  was  to  return  to  the  earth  from  whence  he 
had  been  taken.  The  breath  of  God  made  liim  the  personal, 
self-conscious,  and  free  being,  capable  of,  and  requiring  develop- 
ment, who  for  himself  was  to  choose  between  good  and  evil,  and 
was  responsible  for  his  choice.  The  garden  of  Eden,  full  of  joy 
and  delight,  was  the  place  where  the  trial  and  the  fall  occurred. 
From  this  place  of  bhss  he  was  driven  after  the  fall,  to  eat  his 
bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  brow.  The  command  to  keep  the 
garden  pointed  to  the  existence  of  a  hostile  principle,  against 
which  man  was  warned.  The  tree  of  Hfe,  of  which  the  fruits 
were  not  interdicted  to  man  in  his  state  of  innocence,  is  inter- 
dicted after  his  fall.  The  tree  of  knowledge  became  the  first 
and  most  direct  medium  of  his  development.  The  presence  of 
other  trees,  with  fair  and  dehcious  fruits,  increased  his  guilt  in 
eating  from  the  only  tree  that  had  been  forbidden  him,  since  it 
appeared  how  easily  he  might  have  kept  from  it.  The  naming 
of  the  animals  forms  the  inti'oduction  to  the  creation  of  woman, 
and  the  latter  is  again  the  condition  of  the  first  and  of  every 
subsequent  development. 


§  11.    POSITION  AND  TASK  OF  THE  FIRST  MAN. 

The  narrative  now  records  in  detail  that  creation  of  man  which 
was  only  generally  indicated  in  the  first  section.  The  dualism 
witliin  him,  in  virtue  of  which  he  combines  both  a  divine  and 
an  earthly  nature,  is  now  prominently  brought  forward.  The 
Spirit  of  God  who  at  first  moved  over  the  tliohu  vahohu  had  put 
into  the  earth  the  germs  of  all  the  diverse  forms  of  life.  Hence 
the  production  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  Idngdoms  is  not  re- 
presented as,  strictly  speaking,  an  act  of  creation,  but  only  as  a 


Xl  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WOKLD. 

creative  unfolding  of  germs  already  existent.     We  read,  "  Let 
the  earth  bring  forth  !"  and  as  plants  and  animals  thus  appear 
as  the  individualised  products  of  the  life  of  the  earth,  so  man 
also  who  is  its  highest  and  hence  its   unique  product.     Those 
creative  powers  which  hitherto  had  manifested  their  productive 
agency  on  many  different  points  were  now  concentrated  in  one 
point,  to  call  the  noblest  of  its  formations  into  being,  and  this 
is  most  pictorially  described  when  we  are  told  that  God  himself 
formed  man  from  the  dust  of  the  earth.     But  man  is  not  merely 
the  highest  stage  of  animal  life.     The  breath  of  Divine  life  is 
also  breathed  into  him,  so  that  while  in  part  he  is  of  the  earth 
earthy,  in  part  he  is  also  the  offspring  of  God  (Acts  xvii.  28) 
and  His  image  (Gen,  i.  27).^     Man  is  placed  in  the  garden  to 
dress  and  to  keep  it.     Although  it  had  formerly  been  said  that 
every  creature  as  it  came  from  the  hand  of  God  was  vei'y  good^ 
this  could  only  have  referred  to  a  relative,  not  to  an  absolute 
perfection.      We  hold  that  both  man  and  nature  did  not  by 
creation  immediately  attain  fJiat  stage  of  which  they  were  ulti- 
mately capable,  but  only  that  which  was  suitable  to  the  cir- 
cumstances and  to  the  object  in  view.     The  Divine  Spirit  resid- 
ing in  man  constituted  him  not  only  a  personal  and  free  being, 
but  capable  of  moral  and  religious  activity.    Man  could  not,  like 
a  plant,  have  absolute  perfection  put  upon  him  from  without ;  by 
free  determination  and  activity,  he  was  to  rise  to  that  stage  for 
which  God  had  destined  and  endowed  him.     Accordingly,  man 
was  immediately  put  into  circumstances  in  which  he  was  freely 
to  decide  either /o7^  ov  against  the  will  of  God,  and  thus  to  choose 
his  own  direction. 

But  nature  was  not  merely  to  be  the  abode  of  man  ;  tliere  he 
was  also  to  exercise  his  powers,  to  make  his  moral  decision,  and 
to  develope  himself.  Hence  nature  also  must  at  first  have  only 
been  relatively  perfect,  and  capable  of  development,  not  for  its 
own  sake,  but  for  that  of  man  who,  as  its  priest  and  mediator> 
its  lord  and  master,  was  to  conduct  it  to  its  ultimate  stage  of 

1  It  must  not  be  thought  that  an  interval  of  time  intervened  between  the 
formation  of  man  from  the  Just  and  the  breathinginto  him  the  breath  of  life, 
so  that  man  had  even  for  one  moment  been  merely  an  animal  diifering  only 
in  degree,  not  in  kind,  from  other  animals.  But  there  was  a  difiereuce  in 
regard  to  the  origin  of  his  twofold  nature.  Two  elements — differing  ioto 
coelo — met  at  the  moment  when  he  was  created ;  the  form  prepared  from  the 
dust  and  the  Divine  breath  from  above — the  product  of  their  meeting  was 
man. 


§  12.    THE  TREK  UF  THE  KNOWLEDGE  OF  GOOD  AND  EVIL.        xli 

perfection.  Man  was  destined  to  have  dominion  over  tlie  whole 
earth  (Gen.  i.  26).  But  of  this  a  commencement  was  to  be 
made  in  the  spot  where  God  had  first  placed  him.  He  is  there- 
fore j^rs^  called  upon  fo  dress  and  to  keep  the  garden  of  Eden. 
This  indeed  is  not  a  new  task :  the  mission  formerly  indicated, 
that  he  should  have  dominion,  is  now  only  analysed  into  its  posi- 
tive and  negative  aspects.  The  object  is  still  the  same,  only 
that  now  it  has  been  limited  by  present  circumstances.  God 
himself  had  planted  the  garden,  and  man  was  to  continue  and 
to  complete  the  work  which  God  had  begun.  But  certainly  it 
was  not  ihtended  that  the  activity  of  man  should  always  be  con- 
fined to  Paradise  ;  but  rather,  that  in  continually  extending 
spheres,  it  should  ultimately  embrace  the  whole  earth,  and  trans- 
form it  into  Paradise.  Thus  the  commencement  (the  dressing 
and  keeping  of  the  garden)  was  to  lead  to  the  goal  (man's  do- 
minion over  the  whole  earth).  But  against  what  enemy  was 
man  to  keep  the  garden  ?  The  command  to  keep  is  the  negative 
aspect  of  dominion,  as  dressing  is  the  positive.  But  hitherto 
we  have  only  been  brought  into  contact  with  the  positive  and 
beneficial — is  there  then  some  negative  and  hostile  power  already 
in  existence  asainst  whicli  man  is  to  contend  ? 


§  12.  THE  TREE  OF  THE  KNOWLEDGE  OF  GOOD  AND  EVIL. 

Among  the  numerous  trees  in  the  garden,  two  are  pointed  out 
as  unique  in  their  kind  and  design.  They  are  the  tree  of  life  in 
the  midst  of  the  garden  and  the  tree  of  the  knoioledge  of  good 
and  evil.  Where  shall  we  find  the  key  to  the  mysteries  con- 
cealed under  these  names  ?  According  to  the  common  inter- 
pretation of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  it  was  a  tree  like  others,  in 
itself  innocuous  and  harmless.  It  is  said  that  man  as  a  free 
creature  required  to  obtain  the  means  for  free  determination 
that  so  it  might  appear  whether  he  would  submit  to,  or  oppose 
the  Divine  will.  Hence  God  uttered  a  prohibition — it  might 
however,  as  well  have  been  a  command.  That  prohibition  was 
connected  with  a  free,  but  it  might  as  well  have  been  attached 
to  any  other  object,  or  to  any  other  tree,  since  the  only  thing  of 
importance  was,  that  God  should  express  His  will,  and    man 

/         .  V,  ,  .        < — ^_ 


Xill  BIBLICAL  VIEW  O^  THE  WOULD. 

either  obey  or  disobey  it.  To  obey  was  to  do  good^  to  disobey 
was  to  do  evil.  By  bis  free  determination  man  learned  and 
experienced  the  difference  between  good  and  evil,  and  on  that 
ground  alone  was  the  tree  called  that  of  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil.  Such  arbitrary  conduct  is  attributed  to  the  Almighty  ! 
In  opposition  to  this  view  we  maintain  that  it  was  not  fortuitous 
when  man's  will  was  jmt  to  the  test  by  a  prohibition  rather  than 
by  a  command,  and  when,  for  that  purpose,  the  fruit  of  that  par- 
ticular tree  was  selected.  By  its  very  nature  and  difference 
from  other  trees,  by  its  essential  relation  to  man,  this  tree  must 
have  been  adapted  to  its  peculiar  purpose.  We  are  prepared  to 
maintain  this,  even  though  we  should  remain  ignorant  of  the 
mode  of  this  adaptation,  and  Scripture  had  not  offered  a  clue  to 
this  riddle.  As  from  its  very  nature  the  tree  of  Kfe  brought 
immortality,  so  this  tree  communicated  knowledge.  Considering 
first  the  name  of  that  tree,  we  observe  that  it  gives  clear  and 
unequivocal  indication  that  evil  already  existed  in  creation. 
Of  this  we  had  formerly  discovered  some  indistinct  trace  in  the 
"  thohu  vabohu."  If  evil  had  not  existed,  it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  know  good  and  evil., — i.e.  there  could  not  have 
been  a  tree  by  which,  in  whatever  manner  Adam,  in  the  exer- 
cise of  his  free  will,  should  act,  he  would  obtain  the  know- 
ledge of  good  and  evil.  Further,  it  is  plain  that  the  two  trees 
in  the  midst  of  the  garden  formed  a  contrast.  The  one  tree  was 
called,  and  therefore  was  a  tree  of  life.  In  a  certain  sense  the 
other  trees  also  were  trees  of  life.  Their  fruits  "  pleasant  to  the 
eyes  and  good  for  food,"  were  given  for  nourishment,  and  by  them 
the  physical  powers  of  man  were  strengthened  or  repaired. 
Still  this  one  tree  alone  was  called  the  tree  of  life.  Its  fruits 
absolutely  secured  the  continued  and  unimpaired  life  of  the 
body,  while  the  fruits  of  other  trees  restored  indeed  the  wasted 
powers  of  life,  but  in  so  limited  a  manner  as  not  continuously  to 
preserve  the  balance  between  waste  and  supply.  That  this  view 
is  correct  is  shown  from  Gen.  iii.  22,  where  after  death  had  been 
allotted  to  man,  he  was  pi'ohibited  from  approaching  this  tree 
"  lest  he  put  forth  his  hand  and  take  also  of  the  tree  of  life,  and 
eat  and  live  for  ever." 

Wholly  different — indeed  the  direct  opposite  of  it — was  tlie 
tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil.     It  was  not  indeed  ex- 


§  12.    THE  TREE  OF  THE  KNOWLEDGE  OF  GOOD  AND  EVIL,      xlili 

pressely  called,  yet  in  reality  it  tvas  a  tree  of  death.  For  God 
expressly  warned  man,  "  thou  shalt  not  eat  of  it ;  for  in  the  day 
that  thou  eatest  thereof  fJwu  shalt  surely  die."  And  yet  God 
had  planted  it  just  as  the  other  trees.  Still,  being  called  the 
tree  of  tJie  hioivledge  of  good  and  evil,  man  must  by  it  have 
been  destined  to  have  attained  the  knowledge  of  a  good  and  an 
evil  which  already  existed.  Again,  it  was  a  tree  by  which  it 
should  appear  whether  man  would  decide  in  favour  of  the  good 
or  of  the  evil  which  already  existed  in  the  place  of  his  abode. 
Scripture  characterises  the  want  of  experience  and  the  inability 
of  distinguishing  between  good  and  evil,  as  a  mark  of  unde- 
veloped childhood  and  innocence  (Deut.  i.  39  ;  Jonah  iv.  11  ; 
Isaiah  vii.  15,  16).  When  compared  with  life  in  its  present 
state,  with  its  consciousness  and  its  burden  of  guilt,  this  state 
seems  indeed  exceedingly  favourable  (Matt.  xix.  14).  Yet  when 
contrasted  with  the  original  destiny  of  man — to  know  evil  as 
something  foreign,  and  to  overcome  it  as  something  hostile — it 
must  be  regarded  as  an  imperfect  state  whicli  under  any  circum- 
stances should  not  and  could  not  have  been  continued.  Hence 
in  a  certain  sense  the  tree  of  knowledge,  like  that  of  life,  is  a 
tree  of  blessing  :  nay,  one  of  life  also.  For  the  knowledge  which 
this  tree  was  to  procure  for  man  was  just  the  manifestation  of 
spiritual  life.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  the  peculiar  benefit 
attaching  to  the  tree  of  life  was  only  to  be  experienced  when  its 
fruit  was  eaten.  It  must  therefore  not  only  by  design,  but  by 
nature,  have  been  a  tree  of  life.  But  the  tree  of  knowledge  would 
only  have  become  a  tree  of  life  if  man  had  abstained  from  its 
fruit ;  otherwise  it  became  a  tree  of  death.  Hence  it  was  only 
in  its  divine  design  a  means  of  blessing  and  of  life,  but  m  its 
oivn  natiirc  a  tree  of  misery  and  of  death.  If  not  partaken  of, 
it  would  become  a  source  of  knowledge,  and  this  knowledge  was 
life  :  if  partaken  of,  it  would  likewise  bring  knowledge,  but  this 
knowledge  was  death. 

Man,  as  a  creature,  could  only  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil  after,  and  if  he  had  proved  himself  either  good  or  evil 
before  Him,  who — having  created  him  in  His  image,  destined 
and  made  him  capable  to  be  good — gave  him  moral  freedom  by 
which  it  was  also  possible  for  him  to  become  evil,  since  the 
decision  was  left  in  his  own  hand  (1  Cor.  xiii.  12).     Hence  we 


xliv  BIBLICAL  VIEAV  OF  THE  WORLD. 

must  also  retain  the  other  meaning  which  attaches  to  the  name 
of  the  tree  of  knowledge  as  a  tree  by  which  it  was  to  be  known 
whether  man  would  choose  good  or  evil.'  But  do  these  expla- 
nations answer  every  question  or  remove  every  difticulty  ?  far 
from  it !  Many  still  remain,  nay,  almost  more  than  we  could 
find  suitable  language  to  express.  But  in  its  grand,  childlike 
and  holy  simplicity,  the  narrative  passes  by  such  questions  of 
the  intellect  just  as  a  child  moves  among  the  riddles  of  nature 
and  of  life,  as  if  they  existed  not.  Ours  it  is  here  to  put  our 
hand  upon  our  mouth  and  to  take  home  the  old  saying — 

Nescire  velle,  quae  Magister  Maximus 
Docere  von  vult,  erudita  inscitia  est. 

Yet  withal  we  indulge  the  hope  that  later  stages  of  revelation 
may  lift  the  veil  which  as  yet  conceals  those  mysteries  that  sur- 
round the  cradle  of  mankind.  At  any  rate  we  are  well  assured 
that  when  faith  shall  have  passed  into  vision,  and  our  imperfect 
knowledge  shall  have  ceased,  these  mysteries  and  all  the  other 
deep  things  of  divine  wisdom  and  mercy  shall  be  opened  to  us. 
Meantime  we  gather  from  this  narrative  that  the  tree  of  know- 
ledge was  to  offer  man  an  opportunity  when,  in  accordance  with 
his  nature  as  a  free  being,  he  was  to  take  a  step  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  him,  viz. ,  to  decide  for  or  against  the  will  of  God.  But 
the  design  of  the  tree  of  life  would  only  have  been  realised  if 
man  had  freely  adopted  what  God  originally  oppointed  for  him. 


§  13.    THE  FORMATION  OF  WOMAN. 

Thus  man  was  at  least  objectively  placed  in  a  position  to  take 
that  decisive  step  by  which  from  childlike  ignorance  he  was  to 
pass  to  a  knowledge  of  himself,  of  the  world,  and  of  God :  to 
learn  good  and  evil,  and  from  a  state  in  which  either  of  these 
was  open  to  him,  to  attain  either  holiness  or  misery.     This  was 

1  It  is  part  of  the  lying  policy  of  the  tempter  to  ignore  this  the  most  im- 
portant meaning  attaching  to  the  name  of  the  tree,  and  to  lay  exclusive 
emphasis  on  its  other  meaning  (Gen.  iii.  8).  Thus  only  was  he  able  to 
exaggerate  and  distort  this  meaning  to  a  degree  that  what  had  been  true  be- 
'■ame  perverted  into  a  lie  of  .Satan. 


§  13.    THE  FORMATION  OF  WOMAN.  xlv 

the  first  stej^  in  that  history  which,  as  a  free  person,  he  was  to 
bring  about.  But  another  development  was  still  awanting,  which 
man  may  indeed  have  desired,  but  which  he  could  not  of  himself 
accomplish — we  mean  the  creation  of  woman.  Thereby  the 
ditFerence  of  sexes  was  first  introduced.  The  human  being  first 
created  was  neither  man  nor  woman,  far  less  a  compound  of  the 
two.  Like  the  children  of  the  resurrection  (Matt.  xxii.  30), 
Adam  was  without  sex.  Considered  as  an  inchAddual,  the  first 
man  was  indeed  a  man,  and  the  woman  is  of  the  man,  not  the 
man  of  the  woman.  The  main  object  Avhich  God  seems  to  have 
had  in  view  was,  that  the  wdiole  race  should,  in  joy  and  in  sorrow, 
in  blessings  and  cursings,  in  its  undeveloped  and  its  developed 
state,  form  an  organic  unity.  Therefore  man  was  created  as  an 
individual  unit,  that  from  it  the  whole  race  should  spring — in 
numbers  sufficient  to  execute  its  mission — in  order,  as  the  apostle 
says  (Acts  xvii.  26),  that  "  all  nations  of  men  that  dwell  on  all 
the  face  of  the  earth  should  be  of  one  blood."  For  this  purpose 
both  sexes  had  to  be  derived  from  i\\Q  first  man.  Not  only  was 
aU  mankind  to  spring  from  one  pair,  but  woman  was  to  proceed 
from  man,  that  in  every  res]iect  the  unity  of  the  race  might  be 
preserved.  Again  as  man  was  a//-ee  person,  even  this  develop- 
ment could  not  take  place  without  his  consent  and  desire  for  it. 
Such  longing  was  called  forth  in  him  when  the  various  animals 
were  brought  before  him  (Gen.  ii.  20),  in  whom  he  noticed  the 
sexual  difierence,  but  amongst  which  he  found  none  to  be  an 
help  meet.  God  met  this  desire,  when  He  took  from  man  j)art 
of  his  body,  and  thence  formed  woman.  Immediately  on  seeing 
her,  Adam  said :  "  This  is  bone  of  my  bone,  and  flesh  of  my 
flesh.  She  shall  be  called  woman,  because  she  was  taken  out 
of  man."  This  creative  act  forms  the  basis  of  marriage  with 
its  blessing  :  "  Be  fruitful  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth, 
and  subdue  it."  Marriage  was  the  condition,  and  the  pre- 
liminary of  all  historical  or  free  and  personal  development  of 
man.  It  was  therefore  necessary  that  it  should  precede  the  free 
moral  determination,  either  for  or  against  the  will  of  God,  with 
which  history  was  to  commence.  The  decision  to  be  taken 
would  now  be  the  decision  of  all  his  race — his  victory,  their 
victory,  his  fall,  their  fall. 


xlvi  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 


§  14.    THE  FALL. 


All  was  now  prepared  for  the  trial  which  was  to  take  place, 
when  unexpectedly  another  being  appeared  to  play  an  important 
part  in  it.  It  was  the  serpent,  the  most  subtil  of  all  beasts  of 
the  field.  The  tree  of  knowledge  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
garden.  Upon  the  one  hand  was  the  Divine  prohibition,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  eat  of  it,"  and  the  warning,  "  In  the  day  that  thou  eatest 
thereof,  thou  shalt  surely  die."  On  the  other  hand  was  the 
suggastion  of  the  serpent :  "In  the  day  ye  eat  thereof,  your 
eyes  shall  be  opened  ;  and  ye  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing  good 
and  evil."  Between  these  two  stood  man  free  to  choose,  and 
capable  of  enduring  the  trial  which  in  the  cu-cumstances  had  be- 
come a  temptation — but  also  left  free  to  fall.  God  had  in 
creation  given  him  the  power  for  victory,  and  expressly  warned 
him  against  sin — he  might  therefore  have  overcome.  But  he 
might  also  neglect  this  admonition  and  follow  the  allurements  of 
the  tempter,  he  might  become  unfaithful  to  his  destiny  and 
choose  contrary  to  the  will  of  God.  And  man  was  misled.  He 
succumbed  where  he  should  have  conquered,  and  became  a  slave 
where  he  should  have  been  triumphant.  The  tempter  succeeded 
in  implanting  sinful  lust  into  his  soul ;  he  breathed  into  him  a 
breath,  as  it  were  from  beneath,  the  opposite  of  that  which  in 
creation  had  been  breathed  into  him.  And  now  events  on  which 
a  world's  history  depended,  hastened  to  their  dreadfid  issue.  The 
woman  looked  upon  the  tree,  and  saw  that  it  was  good  for  food, 
and  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  and  a  tree  to  be  desired  because  it 
made  one  wise.  She  took  of  its  fruit  and  ate,  and  gave  to  her 
husband,  and  he  also  ate.  "  Then,  when  lust  has  conceived,  it 
bringeth  forth  sin  ;  and  sin,  when  it  is  finished,  bringeth  forth 
death."    James  i.  15. 

God  who  had  warned  man,  now  appeared  as  the  judge  and 
avenger.  The  curse  lights  upon  the  serpent,  which  henceforth 
is  to  be  cursed  above  all  beasts  of  the  field,  trodden  in  the  dust, 
hated  of  all  creatures,  and  bruised  by  the  seed  of  the  woman. 
The  curse  lights  upon  the  woman :  in  sorrow  she  is  to  bring- 
forth  children,  and  she  is  to  be  subject  to  her  husband.     The 


§  14.    THE  FALL.  xlvii 

curse  lij2,Lts  upon  the  mnn  :  in  the  sweat  of  his  brow  he  is  to  eat 
his  bread,  until  he  return  to  the  earth  from  whence  he  was  taken. 
Lastly,  on  account  of  man,  the  curse  lights  even  ujDon  nature, 
which  is  to  be  the  abode  of  man  :  the  ground  is  to  bring  forth 
thorns  and  thistles.  Man  is  driven  from  the  garden,  cherubim 
with  flaming  swords  prevent  access  to  the  tree  of  life,  lest  man 
put  forth  his  hand  and  eat  of  its  fruit,  and  live  for  ever.  The 
trial  and  decision  of  man,  but  not  his  fall  and  rebellion,  were 
necessary.  But  what  had  only  been  possible,  now  became 
actual.  As  the  tempter  had  deceitfully  promised,  man's  eyes 
were  opened  ;  but  he  only  saw  his  nakedness.  He  knew  what 
was  good,  but  by  the  dreadful  consciousness  of  having  lost  it ; 
he  knew  what  was  evil,  but  in  painful  experience  of  the  wretched- 
ness which  now  had  become  his.  He  became  as  God  ;  from 
having  been  his  representative,  he  had  assumed  an  independent 
position.  He  had  constituted  himself  a  god,  he  had  become  his 
own  master  ;  but  this  likeness  to  God  made  him  exceedingly 
wretched  and  poor,  instead  of  rendering  him  happy.  By  yield- 
ing to  the  will  of  the  tempter,  and  rebelling  against  that  of  God, 
man  became  subject  to  sin  and  to  death,  which  is  the  wages  of 
sin.  Whosoever  committetli  sin  is  the  servant  of  sin — true 
freedom  is  only  found  in  communion  with  God,  the  eternal  type 
and  source  of  all  freedom.  In  virtue  of  his  freedom,  man  might 
choose  sin  ;  but  by  actually  choosing  it,  he  lost  all  freedom  of 
escaping  from  its  power.  Henceforth,  man  cannot  save  himself. 
With  man,  and  on  his  account,  nature,  which  was  to  be  his 
abode,  came  under  the  curse  of  sin  and  the  dominion  of  death 
(Gen.  iii.  17,  &c.  ;  Rom.  viii.  19,  &c.)  Through  the  connection 
and  relation  between  spirit  and  nature,  corruption  passed  from 
man  into  nature,  where  his  lot  had  been  cast.  In  virtue  of  the 
unity  of  the  race,  in  and  with  Adam,  all  mankind  fell,  for  at  this 
time  he  still  constituted  the  whole  race.  The  poison  which  had 
entered  the  root  would,  when  the  tree  sprung  up,  penetrate  into 
every  branch.  Hence,  as  the  race  spread,  sin  and  its  wages 
death  would  only  spread  with  it,  and  could  never  be  checked  or 
destroyed. 


xlviii  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 


§  15.    THE  TEMPTER. 


New  mysteries  cluster  about  that  portion  of  history  which  we 
have  just  detailed.  Mysterious  was  the  origin  and  nature  of  the 
serpent^  equally  so  its  appearance,  its  enmity  to  God,  its  relation 
to  that  fatal  tree,  and  the  curse  with  which  it  was  visited.  Was 
it  no  more  than  an  ordinary  serpent,  such  as  may  be  met  with  on 
field  or  in  forest  ?  We  cannot  doubt  that  the  serpent  was  the 
same  animal  which  we  call  by  that  name.  The  term,  the 
epithets,  and  the  particulars  connected  with  the  curse,  all  point 
to  that  conclusion.  But  was  it  nothing  else  ?  did  the  manner 
of  its  aj)pearance  in  that  decisive  moment,  the  refined  treachery, 
the  consummate  cunning,  the  well-laid  plans,  not  indicate  the 
existence  of  some  dreadful  mystery  which  at  that  stage  remained 
yet  unrevealed  ?  Are  we  not  warranted  in  inferring  the  agency 
of  some  personal  spiritual  power,  deeply  interested  in  destroying 
the  work  of  God,  and  arresting  His  counsel  of  love  toward  man, 
which  made  use  for  its  own  purposes  both  of  the  tree  and  of  the 
serpent  ?  The  view  expressed  in  the  narrative  as  to  the  identity 
of  the  most  subtil  animal  and  a  corresponding  spiritual  power — 
whatever  the  real  connection  between  them  may  have  been — 
would  naturally  be  entertained  by  the  first  man,  at  least  before 
the  fall,  since  his  mode  of  viewing  objects  was  still  direct  and 
without  the  medium  of  reflection.  Bui  when,  after  the  fall,  evil 
became  known,  it  must  have  been  felt  that  the  outward  event 
was  somehow  connected  vnt\i  a  hidden  cause.  We  therefore 
conclude  that  even  at  tliat  time  it  was  known  that  an  evil 
spiritual  agency  had  been  at  work.  We  conceive  that  at  an 
early  period,  besides  the  tradition  of  what  had  taken  place,  a 
traditional  explanation  of  its  origin  existed.  But  while  in 
heathen  legend  these  two  were  mixed  up  and  defaced,  the  author 
of  Genesis  has  given  the  tradition  in  its  original  form,  and  with- 
out explaining  its  mysteries,  perhaps  as  Delitzsch  suggests, 
because  their  disclosure  would  not  have  been  warranted  at  the 
time.  "  Besides  the  history  must  have  been  sufficiently  intelli- 
gible to  every  one  who  had  spiritual  knowledge."  It  follows 
that  before  man  existed  there  was  a  personal  evil  being  on  the 


§  1  G.    PliOSFECT  OF  REDEMPTION.  xlix 

8cene  of  action,  and  as  the  narrative  represents  God  as  the 
Creator  of  heaven  and  eartli  and -of  all  things  in  them,  we  cannot 
doubt  that  this  power  was  a  creature,  and  that  like  every  other 
being  it  had  been  originally  holy,  but  had  fallen  from  its  first 
estate  and  destiny,  and  by  an  abuse  of  its  personal  freedom 
become  evil.  Thus  before  man  had  appeared,  a  history  of  vast  in- 
terest and  of  tremendous  consequences  must  have  been  enacted. 
But  on  this  subject  we  only  gather  further  notices  from  later 
stages  of  revelation. 


§16.    PROSPECT  OF  REDEMPTION. 

Manldnd  had  entered  upon  a  course  in  which,  if  left  to  itself, 
it  must  necessarily  have  been  doomed  to  eternal  destruction,  and 
in  which,  unless  God  interposed,  it  could  never  have  accom- 
plished its  original  mission.  But  it  was  the  good  will  of  God 
to  interpose,  for  "  He  hath  chosen  us  in  Him  before  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world"  To  all  appearance  the  design  of  the  tempter 
had  succeeded.  His  promise,  "  ye  shall  be  as  gods,"  was  fulfilled 
in  the  deceitful  sense  intended.  But  the  deceiver  had  only  laid 
a  snare  for  himself;  as  he  had  derided  man,  who  was  the  image 
of  God,  so  the  Judge  now  derided  him  (comp.  Ps.  ii.  4).  Un 
consciously  the  temj)ter  had  predicted  his  own  judgment  and 
destruction.  Foreseeing  the  fall,  God  had,  before  the  foundation 
of  the  world,  decreed  a  redemption  whereby  the  words  of  the 
tempter  acquired  another  meaning  than  that  he  had  attached  to 
them.  In  consequence  of  the  fall,  redemption  took  place  when 
God  became  as  man,  in  order  that  man,  truly  and  in  the  proper 
sense,  might  become  as  God.  Man,  though  fallen,  was  capable 
of  being  redeemed,  he  had  not  engendered  evil  in  himself;  it 
liad  rather  been  intruded  on  him  from  without,  and  by  a  seduc- 
tion which  he  might  and  should  have  withstood.  Sin  has,  indeed, 
penetrated  and  poisoned  his  whole  being,  and  all  the  relations 
of  life,  but  it  still  is  something  foreign  to  him.  Tlis  being  itself 
had  not  become  sin,  in  him  and  in  his  descendants  is  left  some- 
thing that  opposes  evil,  and  does  not  find  pleasure  in  it  (Rom. 
vii.  15,  16),  but  rather  accuses  and  punishes  him  on  account  of 
sin.     And  altliough  fallen  man  delights  not  in  God  nor  in  His 


1  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WOHLD. 

service,  he  still  feels  mtliin  him  a  deep  longing  after  something 
higher  and  invisible,  which  cannot  be  satisfied  with  anything 
this  world  offers.  These  two  facts  of  his  consciousness  may  be 
traced  to  the  divine  image  within  him,  which  as  conscience 
repels  sin,  and  as  unsatisfied  longing  after  communion  with  its 
Architype  goes  out  in  cravings  after  God.  For  however 
weakened  and  darkened  by  sin,  the  divine  image  in  man  is  not 
wholly  destroyed  (Gen.  ix.  6,  James  iii.  9),  and  even  after  the 
fall,  man  continues  the  offspring  of  God  (Actsxvii.  28).  So  long 
as  the  faintest  spark  of  this  fire  glows  amid  the  ashes,  it  may, 
under  proper  treatment,  and  with  fresh  fuel,  be  again  fanned 
into  a  bright  flame.  That  longing  within,  that  craving  after 
restoration  and  redemption,  also  resounds  throughout  creation  as 
the  echo  of  the  groaning  and  the  longing  of  man,  "  For  the 
earnest  expectation  of  the  creature  travails  with  us  until  now" 
(Kom.  viii.  19—22). 

In  virtue  of  the  eternal  counsel  of  God,  and  according  to  His 
mercy,  the  salvation  long  planned  began  immediately  to  manifest 
itself,  and,  as  a  new  lever  and  regulator  in  the  development  of 
man,  to  operate  upon  his  history.  But  even  after  his  fall  man 
has  retained  freedom  of  choice.  As  by  his  voluntary  act  he  had 
become  sinful,  so  also  must  he  by  free  choice  accept  salvation. 
Neither  the  one  nor  the  other  could  be  forced  upon  him  from 
without.  When  he  made  his  first  choice,  and  partook  of  the 
forbidden  fruit,  he  had  not  thereby  made  a  final  decision, 
since  the  latter  implies  a  full  knowledge  of  the  relations  of  an 
object,  and  a  full  development  of  all  his  powers.  Hence  the 
degradation  consequent  upon  his  fall  was  not  absolute.  It  still 
admitted  of  regeneration  through  the  imparting  of  new  divine 
powers.  But  the  second  decision,  which  would  devolve  upon 
him  when  the  offer  of  salvation  was  made,  must  be  absolute  and 
final.  It  issues  either  in  faith  which  accepts  that  salvation,  or 
in  unbehef  which  determinately  rejects  it. 

Even  the  first  sentence  pronounced  upon  man  (Gen.  iii.  16 — 
19)  afforded  a  glimpse  of  the  mercy  of  God,  who  purposed  to 
prepare  him  for  salvation.  Each  sentence  of  the  curse  contains 
also  elements  of  blessing.  Woman  was,  indeed,  to  bear  children 
in  sorroio;  but  she  was  to  bear  them,  and  in  the  anticipation  of 
the  blessing  impHed  in  this,  Adam  called  her  Eve,  i.e.,  the 


§   16.    PROSPECT  OF  REDEMPTION.  H 

inotiier  of  all  living.  Thus  this  curse  took  up  the  former  bless- 
ing: "be  ye  fruitful  and  multiply  and  replenish  the  earth,  and 
subdue  it,"  with  the  prospect  of  having  it  ultimately  realised. 
On  the  development  of  one  man  into  a  race,  connected  by  unity  of 
origin,  depended  also  the  possibility  of  redemption,  since  the  Sa- 
\dour  was  to  take  upon  Himself  "  bone  of  our  bone  and  flesh  of 
our  flesh."  Again,  labour  in  the  sweat  of  the  brow  was  really  a 
palliative  and  antidote  against  lust.  So  also  death  itself, 
and  man's  expulsion  from  Paradise,  was  at  the  same  time  both 
a  punishment  and  an  act  of  mercy.  Had  man  partaken  of  the 
tree  of  life,  his  j^^'csent  state  of  existence,  with  its  wretchedness 
and  misery,  would  have  been  perpetuated,  and  every  possibility  of 
getting  free  from  the  consequences  of  sin  would  have  been  taken 
away.  The  death  of  the  body,  which,  without  the  intervention 
of  salvation,  would  have  been  only  a  curse,  and  the  commence- 
ment of  eternal  destruction,  has  through  it  become  an  invaluable 
benefit.  For  only  through  death  can  fallen  man  attain  the  resur- 
rection and  transformation  of  the  body. 

The  first  announcement  of  salvation  upon  which  faith  might 
be  exercised,  or  against  which  unbelief  might  harden  itself,  was 
contained  in  the  curse  pronounced  upon  the  tempter  (Gen.  iil 
13 — 15),  "  I  will  put  enmity  between  thee  and  the  woman,  and 
between  thy  seed  and  her  seed :  it  shall  bruise  thy  head,  and 
thou  shalt  bruise  his  heel."  These  words  contain  a  promise  to 
man,  and  in  this  respect  they  have  been  rightly  designated  as 
the  proto-evangelium  or  first  announcement  of  salvation.  The 
narrative  preserves  the  recollections  and  impressions  of  the  first 
man,  and  presents  them  in  all  the  sim^^licity  which  had  at  first 
characterised  them.  The  first  man  regarded  the  subtil  beast 
and  the  person  of  the  tempter,  whatever  the  connection  between 
them  be,  as  strictly  identical.  This  seeming  identity  was  kept  up 
in  the  curse  pronounced.  In  point  of  form  it  applies  indeed 
exclusively  to  the  serpent,  but  as  it  had  been  pronounced  not  for 
the  sake  of  the  serpent  but  for  that  of  man,  it  was  adapted  to 
his  mode  of  intuition  in  wliicli  the  outward  appearance  and  the 
spiritual  principle  were  not  yet  distinguished.  Man  regarded 
the  serpent  as  the  seducer,  and  its  curse  appeared  to  him  that  of 
the  author  of  sin  :  the  destruction  of  the  serpent  by  the  seed  of 
the  woman,  as  deliverance  from  the  power  and  the  influence  of 

d2 


lii  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

the  author  of  sin.  Here  then  the  first  promise  immedisftely 
follows  the  first  sin  ;  by  an  act  of  divine  retribution,  he  that 
was  betrayed  judgeth  his  betrayer ;  by  an  exercise  of  divine 
mercy  healing  balm  was  poured  into  the  newly  opened  wound  ! 
But  by  the  fall  man  has  not  entirely  become  the  slave  of  him 
through  whom  he  has  fallen.  There  is  indeed  an  element  of  op- . 
position  to  God  now  in  his  nature  ;  but  also  a  principle  hostile 
to  the  tempter.  The  latter — ^uch  is  the  meaning  of  the  promise 
— was  to  obtain  victory  over  the  former.  That  communion  with 
Satan  into  which  man  had  been  drawn  was  not  to  be  lasting.  It 
was  not,  as  might  have  been  anticipated,  to  issue -in  friendshij), 
but,  through  di\dne  interposition  and  aid,  in  enmity,  and  in  a ' 
contest  which  would  terminate  in  complete  triumph  over  the 
tempter.  Eve,  the  mother  of  all  living,  was  to  bear  children, 
and  the  seed  of  the  woman  was  to  bruise  the  head  of  the  ser- 
pent, i.e.,  the  race,  as  a  ivJiole,  was  to  contend  with  the  author 
of  sin,  and  to  destroy  the  Idugdom  which  he  had  established. 
The  continuance  of  sin  was  connected  with  the  propagation  of 
the  race — for  that  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh.  But  this 
mystery  of  generation  was  also  to  become  the  medium  of  salva- 
tion— for  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit  (John  iii.  6.) 
Still  man  can  receive  nothing  except  it  be  given  him  from 
above.  Having,  tlu'ough  sin,  become  flesh,  it  was  plainly  im- 
possible that  spirit  should  be  born  of  flesh.  Hence  the  Spirit 
from  on  high  must  descend  into  flesh,  that  thence  He  may  exert 
His  peculiar  powers  of  producing  and  spreading  a  new  life.  But 
this  could  only  be  effected  by  Him,  who  in  creation  had  breathed 
with  the  breath  of  life,  the  image  of  His  being  into  man.  Some- 
thing higher  and  better  was  now  required.  The  Divine  Being 
Himself,  the  personal  fulness  of  the  Grodhead,  had  to  descend  in- 
to human  nature,  in  order  to  raise  it  to  its  original  destiny, 
and  to  conduct  it  to  its  predetermined  goal.  But  all  this  de- 
pended upon  the  development  of  one  man  into  a  race.  As  there- 
fore through  one  man  sin  passed  upon  the  race,  so  also  (Eom.  v, 
17,  18),  was  it  necessary  that  the  new  development,  with  its 
supernatural  powers,  should  commence  at  one  j)articular  point 
in  the  natural  development  specially  adapted  for  it,  in  order  that, 
through  spiritual  generation  and  the  new  birth,  it  might  thence 
extend  over  the  whole  race.     When  this  place  was  found,  it  was 


§  17.    THE  MOllNING  STARS  AND  THE  SONS  OF  GOD.  lui 

said,  "  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee,  and  the  power  of 
the  Highest  shall  overshadow  thee,  therefore  also  that  holy  thing 
wliich  shall  be  born  of  thee,  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God." 
(Luke  i.  35).  From  that  fii'st  promise  downward,  the  sacred 
history  ojiens  to  om*  view  an  unbroken  chain  of  descendants  to 
whom  it  attaches,  and  which,  under  the  continuous  guidance  of 
prophecy,  extends  to,  and  closes  with,  the  second  Adam,  in 
whom  all  the  promises  are  fulfilled.  There  the  development 
which  the  fall  had  interrupted  was  to  recommence  and  to  be 
perfected ;  and  as  the  Leader  of  the  host  in  the  contest  be- 
tween the  seed  of  the  woman  and  the  seed  of  the  serpent,  He 
was  to  secure  for  us  an  ultimate  victoiy.  Thus  seducer  and 
seduced  have  before  them  a  long  protracted  contest,  the  final 
issue  of  which,  however,  is  not  doubtful. 


§  17.    THE  MORNING  STARS  AND  THE  SONS  OF  GOD. 

Besides  the  account  in  Gen.  i.,  and  the  hymn  of  creation, 
Ps.  civ.,  we  have  another  description  of  several  points  in  the 
process  of  creation.     In  Job  xxxviii.  3,  &c.,  we  read : 

"Up,  gird  thy  loins  like  a  man. 
I  will  demand  of  thee,  teach  thou  me. 
Where  wast  thou  when  I  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth  ? 
Declare  if  thou  hast  understanding. 
Who  hath  laid  the  measures  thereof,  if  thou  knowest, 
Who  has  stretched  the  line  upon  it  ? 
Whereupon  are  the  foundations  thereof  fastened, 
Who  laid  the  corner  stone  thereof? 
When  tJiQ  morning-stars  sang  together, 
And  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy  f 
Who  shut  up  the  sea  with  doors, 

When  it  brake  forth  as  if  it  had  issued  out  of  the  womb, 
When  I  made  the  cloud  the  garment  thereof, 
And  thick  darkness  a  swaddling  band  for  it? 
And  brake  up  for  it  my  decreed  place, 
And  set  it  bars  and  doors, 

And  said,  Hitherto  shult  thou  come,  but  no  farther : 
Here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed  ? 

As  the  history  of  creation,  this  passage  also  describes  the  foun- 
dation of  the  earth,  the  formation  of  the  ntmosphere,  and  the 


liv  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

bounding  of  the  sea — wliich  had  been  described  as  created  on 
the  second  and  third  days.  But  we  come  also  upon  a  pecuhar 
and  distinctive  element.  When  the  Almighty  founded  the  earth, 
the  moiling  stm^s  rejoiced,  and  the  sons  of  God  sang  in  praise  of 
the  divine  wisdom  and  power  then  displayed.  Hence  the  morn- 
ing stars  and  sons  of  God  must  have  existed  before  the  earth 
was  founded,  i.e.,  previous  to  the  six  creative  days.  But  what 
are  we  to  understand  by  these  morning  stars  and  sons  of  God  ? 
The  former  expression  no  doubt  refers  to  those  luminous  worlds 
wliicli  adorn  the  vault  of  heaven.  They  are  called  morning 
stars,  because  to  the  sacred  poet  it  appeared  morning  when 
God  founded  the  earth.  The  songs  of  praise  with  which  they 
greeted  the  morn  of  creation  were  that  silent  yet  eloquent 
language  with  which,  according  to  Ps.  xix.  1,  they  still  declare 
the  glory  of  their  Greater : 

"  The  heayens  declare  the  glory  of  God, 
And  the  firmament  sheweth  His  handiwork  ; 
Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech, 
And  night  unto  night  sheweth  knowledge. 
It  is  not  speech,  it  is  not  language. 
Their  voice  is  not  heard  : 
Their  sound  goeth  through  all  the  earth, 
Their  call  to  the  end  of  the  world." 

Here  we  have  what  apparently  contradicts  the  Mosaic  account. 
For  while  according  to  the  latter  sun,  moon,  and  stars  were  only 
on  the  fourth  day  placed  in  the  sky,  the  book  of  Job  describes 
them  as  existing  before  the  foundation  of  the  earth  and  as  admir- 
ing witnesses  of  jts  formation.^ 

But  we  have  already  seen  that  the  fourth  creative  day  does 
not  treat  of  the  creation  of  the  stars  in  themselves,  but  only  of 
their  location  with  reference  to  the  earth.  The  statement,  there- 
fore, that  the  stars  had  existed  before  the  foundation  of  the 

1  DelitzscJi  and  Hofmann  attach  no  historical  import  to  the  passage  in 
Job.  Nor  do  we  maintain  that  the  writer  had  intended  to  describe  in  strict 
order  of  time  the  creative  process.  The  only  point  to  which  we  call  attention  is 
that  the  angels  and  morning  stars  already  existed  when  God  founded  the  earth. 
In  this  respect  there  is  a  contrast  between  them  and  man,  and  this  gives 
jioint  to  the  query,  "  where  wast  tJiou  when  I  laid  the  foundation  of  the 
earth?" 


§  18.    PRIMEVAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  EARTH  AND  OF  MAN.  Iv 

earth  is  not  opposed  to  the  account  given  in  Genesis.  The  sub- 
ject is  viewed  from  two  diiferent  points,  but  in  a  manner  quite 
consistent.  We  conclude,  then,  that  according  to  the  Bible  the 
stars  had  existed  anterior  to  the  earth.  Equally  clear  is  it  that 
the  expression  "  sons  of  God"  refers  to  the  angels  who  surround 
the  throne  of  God  to  execute  His  behests  (Job  i.  6,  ii.  1  ;  Ps. 
xxix.  1,  Ixxxix.  G,  ciii.  21).  They  are  called  angels  in  virtue 
of  their  ofiice  as  messengers  ;  sous  of  God  in  virtue  of  theii'  na- 
ture. These  titles  point  to  their  superiority  over  weak  and  sinful 
man  as  being  the  holy  inhabitants  of  heaven,  the  messengers  of 
Omnipotence,  and  the  reflection  of  Divine  Majesty. ^ 


§  18.    REVIEW  OF  THE  PRIMEVAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  EARTH 
AND  OF  MAN. 

We  now  return  to  the  consideration  of  some  subjects  to  which 
formerly  we  had  only  alluded.  When  speaking  of  the  fall,  we 
learned  that  while  the  tempter  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  ser- 
pent, and  was  cursed  as  such,  he  must  have  been  a  personal  and 
spiritual  being.  Any  doubt  as  to  his  nature,  person,  and  cha- 
racter, is  removed  by  clear  testimonies  of  Scripture  given  at  later 
stages  of  revelation.  In  John  viii.  44  Christ  calls  the  devil  "  a 
murderer  from  the  beginning,"  since  sin  and  death  had  by  him 
been  brought  into  the  world.  In  Eev.  xii.  9,  he  is  called  "  the 
old  serpent  which  deceiveth  the  whole  world,"  comp.  1  John  iii. 
8 ;  2  Cor.  xi.  3  ;  Kev.  xx.  2,  &c.  But  if  the  serpent,  through 
whom  man  was  at  first  betrayed,  stood  in  some  close  connection 
with  the  prince  of  fallen  angels — whether  as  his  instrument  or 
representative — this  circumstance  affords  a  datum  for  ascertain- 
ing the  time  of  his  fall.     Even  at  the  commencement  of  man's 

1  Let  it  bo  borne  in  mind  that  angels  are  always  called  the  sons  of  God, 
but  not  of  Jchovu/i.  The  term  Eloliim  designates  the  Divine  Being  as  the 
fulness  and  source  of  life,  of  power,  of  blessedness,  of  holiness,  of  glory,  and 
majesty.  .The  term  Jehovah  describes  Ilim  as  merciful  and  gracious,  as  the 
Saviour  and  Redeemer  who  humbled  Himself  in  order  to  deliver  fallen  man 
from  His  ruin  and  to  draw  him  upwards.  The  sons  of  Klohim  are,  therefore, 
those  in  whom  shines  forth,  and  who  are  the  media  of,  His  power  and  glory. 
TJie  sons  of  Jehovah  are  those  who  receive  and  are  the  vehicles  of  His  redeem- 
ing mercy.  In  this  sense  Israel  is  called  the  first-born  son  of  Jehovah. 
(Ex.  iv.  22). 


Ivi 


BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WOULD. 


history  this  fallen  angel  appears  already  in  full  antagonism  io 
God.  His  fall  must,  therefore,  have  preceded  not  only  that  of 
man  but  also  his  creation.  Again,  it  seems  probable  that  just 
as  the  trial  of  man's  liberty  formed  the  commencement  of  his 
history,  so  in  the  case  of  angels  also,  and  that  therefore  the  fall 
of  angels  had  taken  place  very  soon  after  their  creation. 

It  is  also  of  importance  to  inquire  as  to  the  jjface  of  their  fall. 
It  must  have  occurred  in  some  particular  locality,  since  even  the 
idea  of  a  creature  implies  the  notions  of  time  and  space.  Again, 
in  Jude  6,  comp.  2  Pet.  ii.  4,  we  are  told  that  "  the  angels  which 
kept  not  their  first  estate  left  their  own  habitation."  Consider- 
ing the  essential  connection  between  spirit  and  nature,  we  are 
warranted  in  supposing  that  the  fall  of  the  angels  had  left  cor- 
responding traces  of  ruin  in  that  nature  which  had  been  assigned 
to  them  for  their  habitation,  and  that  these  traces  must  have  been 
the  more  marked,  the  more  important  the  position  of  the  rebels 
had  been,  and  the  greater  the  consequences  of  their  fall.  These 
1  races  of  desolation  must  belong  to  a  period  preceding  the  crea- 
tion of  man.  Taking  up  the  sacred  narrative  with  these  views,  we 
come  at  the  very  outset  upon  the  "  thohu  vabohu,"  that  desolation, 
emptiness,  and  darkness  which  first  broke  upon  the  view  of  the 
inspired  seer.  May  not  this  have  been  the  desolation  to  which 
we  have  above  alluded  ?  We  have  already  shewn  that  the  words 
"  thohu  vabohu"  in  other  passages  refer  to  a  positive  devastation 
and  desolation  which  had  taken  the  place  of  former  life  and 
fruitfulness.  But  the  circumstance  that  these  words  bear  that 
meaning  in  other  passages  renders  it  probable  that  they  do  so  in 
tliis  passage  also.  Again,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  words 
"  the  earth  was  waste  and  void,  and  darkness  was  upou  the 
face  of  the  raging  deep,"  even  irrespective  of  any  parallel  pas- 
sage, apply  more  appropriately  to  a  desolation  which  had  taken 
place  in  creation,  than  to  a  work  of  God  not  yet  completely 
finished  and  still  devoid  of  light  and  life.  Manifestly  a  Divine 
work,  although  unfinished,  must  in  proportion  to  its  complete- 
ness and  capacityhave  reflected  Divine  harmonyand  order,  Divine 
light  and  life.  Any  doubt  then  ibrmerly  remaining  is  now 
cleared  away.  Formerly  we  spoke  of  a  desolation  of  which  we 
knew  not  the  author — now  we  are  brought  into  contact  with  a 
destroyer  for  whom  we  cannot  anywhere  else  find  a  correspond- 


§  18.    TRfMEVAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  EARTH  AND  OF  MAN.        Ivii 

ing  destruction.  Formerly  we  were  told  of  darkness,  a  raging 
chaos,  desolation,  and  emptiness  :  7ioio  of  a  kingdom  of  darkness, 
of  spirits  of  rebellion,  confusion,  and  destruction.  The  two 
also  coincide  as  to  time  since  both  had  taken  place  before  the 
six  creative  days.^ 

Since  the  two  events  so  perfectly  coincide,  we  are  not  only 
warranted  but  almost  forced  to  regard  the  "  thohu  vabohu"  of 
Gen.  i.  2  as  the  consequence  of  the  fall  of  the  angels.  It  is  only 
thus  that  many  other  questions  can  be  answered  and  many  diffi- 
culties connected  with  the  history  of  man  removed.  Even  before 
man  was  created  there  had  been  an  earth,  and  a  history  had  been 
enacted  upon  it.  The  prophet  who  relates  the  primeval  his- 
tory beheld  this  earth  desolate  and  void.  But  this  state  had 
been  preceded  by  one  of  order  and  life,  such  as  every  work  of 
God  exhibits : — it  was  also  succeeded  by  a  creative  restoration 
during  the  six  days  when  light  was  called  out  of  darkness,  and 
order  and  life  out  of  destruction  and  desolation.  Our  remarks 
have  led  us  then  to  the  conclusion  that  the  angels  who  rebelletl 
against  God,  who  lost  their  principality  and  were  obliged  to 
leave  their  tirst  habitation,  had  originally  inhabited  our  earth. 
But  as  the  fallen  angels  had  before  their  rebellion  had  the 
same  being  and  destiny  as  the  other  angels,  their  dwelling- 
places  must  also  have  been  similar.  In  its  original  state  our 
earth  must,  tlierefore,  have  resembled  the  other  celestial  worlds 
which  we  supi)Ose  to  be  the  habitations  of  the  holy  angels. 
God  restored  life  and  harmony  to  our  globe  because  in  infinite 
mercy  He  had  decreed  that  His  great  plan  was  not  to  be  sub- 
verted, but  that  the  world  which  had  become  subject  to  ruin 

1  Tlie  view  here  defended  is  very  old.  In  the  tenth  century  Edgar  king 
of  Enghmd  said  in  confirmation  of  the  law  of  OsAvald,  "  As  God  drove  the 
angels  from  the  earth  after  their  foil,  whereupon  it  was  changed  into  chaos, 
he  had  now  placed  kings  upon  earth  that  justice  might  obtain  tliere."  The 
same  view  has  also  been  held  in  later  times  not  only  by  Theosophists, 
such  as  /.  Jl'Jime,  St  Martin,  J.  M.  Halm,  Fr.  v.  Meyer,  Jlamberger,  Roclioll, 
and  others,  but  also  by  such  men  as,  Reichel,  Slier,  Fr.  v.  Schkyel,  G.  H.  v. 
Schubert,  Knieiret,  Drceh.sler,  Rudelbach,  Gucricke,  M.  Baumgarten,  Lebeau, 
A.  Wagner,  Mir/ielis,  Ridters,  Rougemonl,  and  latterly  also  by  Delitzsch. 
But  we  cannot  discover  any  trace  of  it  among  the  Fathers.  They  generally 
assert  indeed  that  mankind  had  been  created  in  order  to  fill  the  gap  left  by 
the  fall  of  the  angels,  while  many  of  them  thought  that  the  race  was  to 
increase  until  the  number  of  the  redeemed  should  equal  that  of  the  fallen 
angels.  Uut  we  do  not  find  that  they  had  held  that  chaos  had  been  the  con- 
seriuence  of  the  fall  of  angols. 

2 


Iviii  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  EARTH. 

should  again  be  raised,  the  destroyer  be  banished  from  it,  and 
other  inhabitants  and  another  lord  be  given  to  it.  From  this 
we  also  infer  that  man,  who  had  been  substituted  for  Satan  and 
his  angels,  was  destined  to  complete  their  unperformed  task,  to 
restore  the  disturbed  harmony  of  the  universe,  and  to  over- 
come and  to  judge  the  arch-destroyer  and  rebel.  "  Know  ye 
not,"  says  the  apostle  Paul  (1  Cor.  vi.  2,  3),  "that  the  saints 
shall  judge  the  world  ?  Knoio  ye  not  that  lue  shall  judge 
angels  ?"  Man  was  thus  to  occupy  a  position  in  the  universe 
to  which  all  eyes  must  have  been  directed,  and  which  perhaps  in 
itself,  and  from  the  mission  attaching  to  it,  was  the  most  impor- 
tant. At  any  rate  it  had  acquired  momentous  interest  on  account 
of  what  had  already  occurred,  and  what  was  yet  to  take  place 
on  the  earth.  On  the  conduct  of  man,  and  on  his  decision,  now 
depended  the  further  development  in  the  history  of  the  universe. 
The  rebels  who  had  caused  the  former  disorganisation,  and  who 
were  now  to  be  overcome,  were  banished  from  their  original 
habitation,  which  was  to  be  no  longer  conformable  to  their  fallen 
state.  Their  element  is  darkness,  waste,  and  desolation. 
Hence  when  God  spake  "let  there  be  light,"  when  His  all-wise 
command  changed  chaos  into  harmonious  order,  and  filled  what 
had  been  desolate  with  new  life,  they  had  to  flee  away.  But 
since  only  the  beginning,  not  the  full  development  of  this  new 
order  had  been  brought  about,  the  fallen  angels  still  remained  a 
power — vanquished,  indeed,  so  far  as  the  decree  of  God,  but  not 
so  far  as  its  execution  by  man  was  concerned.  They  had  to 
leave  their  habitations,  their  property  was  given  to  another,  but 
they  might  still  urge  claims  which,  though  invalid,  could  only  be 
finally  set  aside  when  their  futility  had  been  fully  exposed,  when 
at  the  judgment  of  the  world,  which,  in  a  certain  sense,  was  to 
be  carried  on  throughout  the  course  of  its  history,  their  cause 
had  been  wholly  lost,  and  the  purifying  fires  of  the  last  judgment 
(2  Pet.  iii.  10)  had  restored  to  them  all  that  remained  of  dross 
in  the  world,  to  become  their  eternal  prison  and  hell  (Kev.  xx. 
9,  10).  We  can  now  understand  both  their  interest  in,  and 
claims  upon,  the  earth,  and  their  hostility  towards  man,  who  had 
obtained  the  province  taken  from  them,  and  was  destined  to 
execute  that  judgment  upon  them  which  the  Lord  had  decreed. 
We  can  also  perceive  what  importance  attached  to  our  earth,  as 


§  19.    PRIMEVAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  EARTH  AND  OF  MAN,  lix 

being  the  historical  centre  of  the  universe  where  the  contest 
between  good  and  evil  was  totakepkice,  and  the  fate  of  the  whole 
world  to  be  decided ;  we  also  discern  that  in  truth  the  perfection 
of  the  whole  universe  must  have  depended  upon  that  of  the  earth. 
The  close  connection  between  heaven  and  earth,  which  Scripture 
throughout  presupposes,  is  no  longer  unintelligible  ;  not  by  acci- 
dent or  arbitrary  appointment  did  our  earth  become  the  centre 
of  the  universe,  the  scene  of  the  most  glorious  revelations,  and 
even  of  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  Grod.  From  this  point  of 
view  we  can  also  understand  how  the  incarnation  of  God  was 
fraught  with  blessings  not  only  to  our  poor  earth,  but  also  to  the 
whole  universe. 


§  19.    CONTINUATION. 

With  the  knowledge  we  have  now  acquired,  we  return  to  the 
consideration  of  the  biblical  account  of  the  Fall,  in  the  hope  of 
gaining  a  deeper  insight  into  its  meaning.  If  we  mistake  not, 
we  shall  now  be  able  better  to  understand  both  the  temptation, 
its  form,  and  mode,  but  especially  the  most  mysterious  parts  of 
the  narrative,  viz.,  the  tree  of  knowledge,  and  the  nature  of  the 
serpent.  It  is  obvious  that  man  had  to  undergo  a  trial  of  his 
moral  freedom,  being  capable  of  self-determination  and  self- 
development.  But  it  is  more  difficult  to  understand  why  his 
trial  should  have  taken  the  form  of  a  temptation,  why  the  divine 
will,  which  was  to  become  the  occasion  for  man's  decision,  should 
have  been  a  negative,  and  not  a  positive  injunction,  a  prohibition 
and  not  a  command.  In  all  the  actings  of  God  nothing  is 
arbitrary,  and  something  in  the  position  of  man  must  have 
rendered  it  necessary  that  his  trial  should  take  place  in  connection 
with  a  prohibition  and  not  with  a  command.  Every  prohibition 
presupposes  the  existence  of  evil,  whether  in  the  subject  to  whom 
a  thing  is  forbidden,  or  in  the  ohject  which  is  forbidden.  In  the 
present  instance  it  could  not  have  been  in  the  subject  or  in  man, 
partly  because  he  still  remained  in  his  original  and  undeveloped 
state,  partly  because  in  that  case  any  trial  would  have  been  un- 
necessary and  impossible.  Sin  must  therefore  have  attached  to 
something  out  of  man — and  yet  all  that  God  had  created  upon 


Ix  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

the  earth  was  veiy  good.  Whence,  then,  tlie  evil  ?  The  tree 
of  knowledge  was  a  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  ajsid  evil,  and 
not  merely  of  good  oil  evil :  and  whether  man  partook  of  it  or 
not,  he  was  through  it  to  attain  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil. 
But  if  evil  had  not  already  existed,  man  would,  if  he  had  remained 
obedient,  only  have  attained  the  knowledge  of  good.  Again, 
why  was  it  necessary  that  under  all  circumstances  man  should 
attain  the  knowledge  of  evil,  since  it  apparently  lay  beyond  him 
and  beyond  the  sphere  of  his  activity  ?  God  had  planted  the 
tree  of  knowledge  as  all  the  other  trees.  Why  then  did  he  warn 
against  His  own  workmanship  ?  The  tree  was  a  tree  of  death 
— ^for  man  was  to  die  if  he  partook  of  it,  and  yet  it  was  also 
necessary  and  useful,  and  that  although  man  was  destined  for 
life  and  not  for  death.  The  tree  was  good,  for  Grod  had  created 
it ;  yet  there  was  an  element  of  evil  about  it  since  it  might  bring 
death.  How  do  these  things  ageee  ?  Ood  tempts  no  man  to 
evil  (James  i.  13),  and  yet  the  trial  of  man  became  a  direct 
temptation  to  evil.  God  cannot  therefore  have  occasioned  the 
wiles  of  the  serpent.  These  must  have  sprung  from  the  tempter 
himself,  which  God  only  permitted  in  view  of  the  necessity  of 
such  a  trial,  in  this  resj)ect  only  consenting  to  it.  But  whence 
this  necessity  ?  Why  should  the  tempter  ha'\^e  sought  to  lure 
man  to  destruction  ?  Was  it  merely  the  general  desire  on  the 
part  of  the  evil  one  to  have  companions  of  his  guilt,  and  to 
draw  others  into  the  same  wretchedness  which  had  become  his  ? 
But  if  such  had  been  the  case,  and  if  there  had  been  no  internal 
ground  and  special  relation  between  the  enemy  and  man,  it 
would  have  been  inconceivable  that  God  should  not  only  have 
permitted  it,  but  opened  the  way  for  it.  All  these  and  similar 
difficulties  are  satisfactorily  removed  when  we  bear  in  mind  that 
the  fallen  angels  had  formerly  inhabited  the  earth,  and  that  our 
globe  which  had  been  laid  waste  by  their  fall,  had  been  restored  by 
Divine  mercy  and  omnipotence,  and  assigned  to  man  as  a  place 
of  abode  and  for  discharging  his  peculiar  mission.  We  now 
understand  why  Satan  should  have  sought  by  all  means  to  lead 
man  into  rebellion.  It  was  from  natural  enmity,  from  hatred 
and  envy,  wrath  and  revenge  against  his  favoured  rival,  who 
had  obtained  the  habitation  from  which  himself  had  been  driven, 
and  the  principality  which  himself  had  lost ;  who  had  obtained 


§  19.    PRIMEVAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  EARTH  AND  OF  MAN.        Ixi 

all  that  blessedness  and  gioiy,  of  wliicli  he  was  for  ever  deprived : 
nay,  -who  was  called  to  execute  judgment  upon  him.  His  was 
the  resistance  of  despair,  the  hope  of  madness,  to  regain  the  lost 
inheritance,  and  to  escape  the  judgment  of  the  great  day  for 
which  he  is  reserved  in  everlasting  cliains,  under  darkness. 

We  can  now  also  understand  how  God  would  allow  the  temp- 
tation, and  even  open  the  way  for  it,  although  in  omniscience 
He  foresaw  the  fall.  God  had  destined  man  to  possess  and  to 
rule  over  the  earth,  to  restore  the  disturbed  harmony  of  the  uni- 
verse, to  be  leader  in  that  great  and  holy  contest  of  created 
spirits  which  had  been  occasioned  by  the  fall,  to  be  the  conqueror 
and  ultimately  the  judge  of  the  rebels.  But  as  a  free  and  per- 
sonal being,  man  had  by  an  act  of  his  own  to  gain  the  position 
for  which  he  was  destined,  and  a  title  to  the  property  and 
dignity  for  which  God  had  designed  him.  He  might  also,  in 
virtue  of  his  freedom,  make  common  cause  with  the  enemy, 
instead  of  falling  in  with  the  plan  of  God,  and  like  the  Arch- 
rebel  attempt  to  place  liimself  upon  the  throne  of  God.  God  is 
just,  even  towards  Satan,  nor  would  he  prevent  him  from  attempt- 
ing all  in  his  power  to  maintain  himself  in  opposition  to  God. 
Only  wlien  every  thing  had  been  attempted  in  vain,  and  Satan 
had  become  fully  conscious  of  his  absolute  impotence,  which 
could  only  end  in  defeat,  even  where  apparently  victory  had  been 
Ids — only  then  was  he  to  receive  his  final  doom.  We  now  also 
perceive  why  the  trial  of  man  assumed  the  form  of  a  temptation, 
and  the  first  injunction  to  man  was  not  a  command  to  do,  but  a 
prohil)ition  from  doing.  As  evil  already  existed,  and  man  did 
not  occupy  a  neutral  j)osition  towards  it,  but,  as  the  very  pur- 
pose of  Iris  existence  was  one  of  hostility  towards  sin,  it  was 
necessary  that  he  should  immediately,  and  of  his  own  accord, 
take  up  a  definite  position  towards  the  enemy.  Fm-ther,  we 
also  understand  the  apparent  difficulties  about  the  tree  of  know- 
ledge ;  how,  although  created  by  God,  it  is  a  tree  of  death  ;  and 
how,  after  Satan  had  been  obhged  to  leave  his  habitation,  he 
should  still  have  obtained  in  that  tree  a  basis  of  operation  from 
which  to  act  against  man.  There  must  have  been  some  con- 
nection between  Satan  and  that  tree,  although  God  had  allowed 
it  to  grow.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  discover  wherein  it  lay.  By 
the  rebellion  of  Satan,  death  and  ruin  had  as  cosraical  agents 


Ixii  BIBLICAL  VIEJW  OF  THE  WORLD. 

been  brought  into  the  primeval  earth,  which  became  "  thohu 
vabohu."  By  the  restoration  of  the  earth  during  the  six  creative 
days,  God  imparted  to  the  earth  new  cosmical  powers  of  life. 
Man  was  now  placed  between  good  and  evil,  between  life  and 
death.  They  were,  so  to  speak,  set  before  him  by  the  Creator 
that  he  might  choose  between  them.  The  cosmical  good  which 
Grod  had  imparted  when  restoring  the  earth,  Avas  concentrated  in 
the  tree  of  life  ;  the  cosmical  evil  which  originated  in  Satan,  in 
the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  which,  however,  was 
also  fenced  in  by  Divine  warning.  In  this  tree  Satan  had  a 
part,  for  to  him  that  death  was  due,  which  clung  to  the  tree. 
On  this  account  he  endeavom'ed  to  make  the  tree  attractive. 
But  Grod  also  had  a  part  in  that  tree.  He  had  allowed  it  to 
grow.  He  had  concentrated  death  in  it,  He  had  hedged  it  about 
by  prohibition  and  warning. 

To  eat  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  i.e.,  to  receive  the  cosmical 
evil  into  the  physical  organism,  was  to  introduce  j^^iysical  death 
— ^it  was  to  drink  the  primal  poison  in  nature.  To  eat  of  the 
tree  of  life,  i.e.,  to  receive  cosmical  good,  would  impart  im- 
mortality to  the  body — it  was  the  pi'imal  remedy  in  nature. 
And  however  powerful  the  one  tree  to  destroy,  the  effects  of  the 
other  tree  were  still  greater,  since,  according  to  chap.  iii.  22, 
even  after  man  had  eaten  of  the  fruit  of  death,  he  would  have 
still  lived  for  ever  if  he  had  partaken  of  its  fruit.  The  fatal  tree 
was  called  that  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  e\dl.  If,  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  Satan,  man  shoidd  partake  of  its  fruit,  he  would  experi- 
ence in  himself  cosmical  evil  and  its  effect,  death — and  by  contrast 
know  the  good  of  which  he  would  painfully  feel  the  want.  But  if 
according  to  God's  commatid  he  ivoidd  refuse  its  fruit,  and  instead 
of  it  take  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life,  he  would  experience  in 
himself  physical  good,  and  that  as  an  everlasting  power  of  life, 
and  only  know  physical  evil,  as  something  without  him,  which 
had  been  overcome,  and  which,  like  Satan,  its  author,  could 
have  no  further  continuance  upon  the  earth.  But  as  cosmical 
evil  originated  in  moral  evil,  or  in  Satan,  and  as  the  tree  to 
which  it  clung  had  been  surrounded  by  him  Tvitli  seductive 
attractions,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  limitation  of  cosmical 
evil  to  the  tree  and  the  warning  against  it  is  traceable  to  moral 
good,  viz.,  to  the  holy  will  of  God — this  cosmical  evil  was,  in 


§  19.    PRIMEVAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  EARTH  AND  OF  MAN.      Ixiii 

the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case,  fitted  to  become  the  occa- 
sion by  which  man  would  either  decide  for  moral  good  or  for 
moral  evil.  Thus  the  tree  was  also  one  both  of  moral  good  and 
evil,  and  of  intellectual  good  and  evil.  But  man  decided  for  evil. 
By  that  act  physical  evil  or  death  penetrated  his  body,  and 
moral  evil  or  sin  his  inward  nature  ;  he  surrendered  himself  to 
the  service  of  Satan,  Death,  which  formerly  had  been  bound 
to  the  tree,  had  now  been  set  free  by  sin,  and  reigned  along  with 
it — Satan  had  gained  a  large  field  on  earth. 

And  what  of  tlie  tree  of  life  ?  To  this  query  chap.  iii.  22,  23 
gives  the  following  reply  :  God  sent  man  forth  from  the  garden 
"  lest  he  put  forth  his  hand  and  take  of  the  tree  of  life,  and  eat 
and  live  for  ever."  Thus  even  after  the  entrance  of  sin  and 
death,  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life  would  have  removed  physical 
death  from  man.  But  it  was  capable  of  imparting  only  cosmical 
or  physical  life.  To  remove  the  power  of  sin  or  spiritual  and 
moral  death,  it  required  another  tree  of  life,  even  that  planted 
in  Golgotha,  the  fruit  of  which  is  for  eternal  life.  Again,  God 
did  not  allow  man  to  partake  of  the  tree  of  life  because  it  was 
only  capable  of  removing  death  and  not  its  source,  sin.  So  long 
as  the  latter  was  not  removed,  death  was  to  continue  its  wages, 
but  also  to  form  its  great  remedy,  since  in  the  council  of  salvation 
death  was  to  become  the  medium  of  and  the  passage  to  a  new 
life.  Had  man  partaken  of  the  tree  of  life,  his  physical 
life,  such  as  it  was  after  the  entrance  of  sin,  would  have  been 
perpetuated,  and  every  possibility  of  setting  it  free  from  the  con- 
sequences of  sin  would  liave  been  taken  away.  Nay,  sin  which 
reigns  in  the  members  of  the  body  would  thereby  have  received 
such  encouragement  and  accession  of  strength  as  to  render  re- 
pentance almost  impossible.  How  often  have  bodily  sickness  and 
weakness  become  the  means  of  breaking  the  strength  of  sin  !  Best 
of  all,  through  the  intervention  of  Christ  the  death  of  the  body 
lias  also  become  an  unspeakable  blessing.  Through  death  sinful 
man  may  now  attain  the  resurrection,  and  through  the  decay  of 
the  body  its  glorification. 

But  the  question,  what  had  become  of  the  tree  of  life  after  the 
fall,  is  only  fully  answered  in  Rev.  xxii.  1.  Tlicre  the  inspired 
seer  describes  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  Avhere  all  that  had  been 
taken  from  man  in  consequence  of  liis  fall,  will  be  restored  on 


Ixiv  BIBLICAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WOULD. 

the  glorified  earth.  "  In  the  midst  of  the  street  of  it,  and.  on 
either  side  of  the  river,  was  there  the  tree  of  life  which  bare 
twelve  times  fruit,  yielding  her  fruit  every  month  :  and  the 
leaves  of  the  tree  were  for  the  healing  of  the  nations."  It  there- 
fore appears  that  Paradise,  from  which  man  was  driven  forth, 
had  been  removed  from  the  earth  (perhaps  only  at  the  time  of 
the  flood),  but  that  the  powers  of  life  which  it  contained  have 
been  preserved  and.  are  again  to  be  restored  to  man.  This  re- 
mark applies  especially  to  the  tree  of  life.  But  the  fatal  tree  of 
the  l^nowledge  of  good  and  evil  has  no  place  in  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem.  There,  Satan's  power  is  wholly  broken,  nor  does 
God  require  any  longer  that  tree  since  all  trial  has  ceased. 
Scripture  does  not  expressely  state  what  had  become  of  that  tree 
after  the  fall.  But  we  cannot  be  wrong  in  supposing  that  man 
had  taken  with  liim  from  Paradise,  not  indeed  that  tree  itself, 
but  the  a<2;encies  of  death  and  ruin  which  were  connected  with 
it.  Probably  it  withered  in  Paradise,  but  its  powers  of  death 
once  set  free  have  since  multiplied  and  spread  over  the  earth. 

And  what  of  the  serpent  ?  By  this  mystery  of  primeval  times 
we  must  pass,  without  being  able  wholly  to  solve  it.  One  thing 
indeed  we  have  gathered,  that  by  it  a  spiritual  and  personal 
principle  exerted  its  influence.  How  that  spiritual  principle 
made  use  of  that  outward  appearance  must  remain  unexplained. 
Perhaps  we  might  regard  it  in  this  light,  that  Satan,  the  serpent, 
and  the  tree  are  connected  together  as  the  personal,  the  animal, 
and  the  vegetable  forms  in  which  e^'il  was  emlDodied.  At  any  rate, 
man  was  at  the  conmiencemeut  of  his  history  to  have  done  what 
only,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  the  seed  of  the  woman  has  been  able  to 
accomplish, — to  bruise  the  head  of  the  serpent.  Had  man  obeyed 
the  law,  had  he  turned  from  the  tempter  and  resisted  his  seduction, 
he  would  have  accomplished  this.  The  tree  and  the  serpent  were 
the  last  remnants  of  what  belonged  to  Satan,  which  were  left  on  the 
renewed  earth.  Already  had  the  Creator  made  an  end  of  the 
' '  thohu  vabohu."  Its  last  representatives,  the  tree  and  the  serpent, 
and  in  them  the  spiritual  principle  of  evil,  man  was  to  overcome  and 
to  banish .  They  were  the  only  things  yet  belonging  to  Satan.  Had 
they  been  conquered  and  removed,  Satan  himself  would  have  been 
vanquished  and  banished,  and  the  task  of  man  "  to  dress  and  keep 
the  garden"  would  have  been  reduced  to  that  of  merely  dressing  it. 


(     Ixv     ) 

CHAPTER  II. 

CONFLICT  AND  HARMONY  BETWEEN  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

In  their  attacks  upon  the  Biblical  view  of  the  world,  the 
enemies  of  religion  chiefly  controvert  one  of  three  points.  Either 
the  scriptural  doctrine  of  creation  or  that  of  redemption,  or  that 
concerning  the  final  judgment,  are  caUed  in  question.  We  shaU 
therefore  enquire  whether  our  holy  faith,  the  efficacy  of  which 
has  hitherto  so  gloriously  manifested  itself  both  for  life  and  in 
death,  and  which  has  transformed  our  world,  is  really  incapable 
of  bearing  the  light  of  modern  science  ;  or  whether  it  be  not 
possible  so  to  reconcile  the  two,  that  science  shall  become  the 
ally  instead  of  being  the  enemy  of  religion. 

§  1.    THE  DOCTRINE  AND  HISTORY  OF   CREATION. 

Infidelity  has  always  made  the  doctrine  and  history  of  creation 
a  principal  point  of  attack.  Deism  and  Pantheism,  whether 
separately  or  unitecUy,have  here  entered  the  Hsts  against  the  Bible. 
More  particularly  has  Pantheism  controverted  the  Biblical  doc- 
trine of  creation,  while  Deism  has  objected  to  the  Biblical  nar- 
rative of  its  process.  Deists  profess  to  believe  in  a  creation  out 
of  nothing,  and  hence  controvert  only  the  claim  of  our  narrative 
to  be  regarded  as  of  Divine  Revelation.  To  find  a  substratum 
for  their  opposition,  they  object  to  the  Biblical  account  of  crea- 
tion, and  attempt  to  shew  that  it  is  self -contradictory,  that  it  is 
opposed  to  the  results  of  natural  science,  cliildish  and  absurd. 
On  the  other  hand,  Pantheists,  who  deny  the  independent  and 
personal  existence  of  God,  and  the  origin  of  the  world  by  the 
mere  will  of  a  personal  God,  object  chiefly  to  the  Biblical  doctrine 
of  creation.  Their  opposition  to  the  account  of  creation  only 
springs  from  their  hostility  to  the  hated  doctrine  of  creation  out 
of  nothing,  on  which  it  is  based.  On  this  common  ground  the 
two  parties  have  combined  their  forces  for  the  purpose  of  attack- 


Ixvi  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

ing  the  Biblical  narrative.  We  shall  not  discuss  this  strange 
alliance,  nor  address  ourselves  to  the  refutation  of  these  two 
parties,  any  further  than  to  shew  that  their  appeal  to  astronomy 
as  against  the  Bible  is  futile,  and  that  the  arbiter  whom  they 
invoke  pronounces  in  our  favour  and  against  them. 

In  this  discussion  we  shall  not  advert  to  any  objections  against 
the  Biblical  doctrine  of  creation,  which  are  urged  and  must  be 
refuted  on  philosophical  grounds.  No  astronomer  has  ever 
maintained  that  his  scientific  investigations  have  led  him  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  world  could  not  have  been  created  out  of 
nothing.  Even  when  astronomy  has  left  its  proper  province, 
and  constructed  hypotheses  as  to  the  probable  origin  of  the 
celestial  bodies,  it  has  at  last  come  to  some  limit,  when  its  specu- 
lations were  arrested  by  a  "  hitherto,  but  no  further."  Whether 
astronomers  are  warranted  in  concluding  from  the  analogy  of  the 
origin  and  developments  which  scientific  men  are  still  observing, 
that  the  heavenly  bodies  may  in  similar  manner  have  originated 
or  not,  certain  it  is  that  it  is  impossible  on  such  grounds  to 
hazard  either  the  opinion  that  these  original  materials  and  powers 
had  been  eternal,  or  that  they  had  been  created — that  their 
co-operation  had  been  accidental,  or  that  it  had  been  brought 
about  by  the  will  of  a  higher  personal  being.  Leaving  aside 
such  questions,  we  shall  address  ourselves  to  the  objections 
brought  on  astronomical  grounds  against  the  Biblical  account  of 
creation. 


§  2.    CREATION  OF  THE  WORLD  IN  SIX  DAYS. 

Various  objections  have  been  urged  against  the  Biblical  account 
of  the  creation  in  six  days.  Formerly  it  was  customaiy  to  argue 
that  Ho  who  speaks  and  it  is  done  must  hnve  created  the  world 
in  a  single  moment,  and  not  employed  six  days  for  that  purpose. 
But  of  late  an  opposite  line  of  reasoning  has  been  pursued. 
Adopting  the  views  of  Herschel  as  to  the  continuous  formation 
of  stars,  and  urging  the  hypotheses  of  geology  as  to  the  forma- 
tion of  the  earth's  crust,  our  opponents  have  declared  it  incredible 
that  heaven  and  earth  in  their  present  state  should  have  required 
only  six  days  for  their  formation.       Thousands,  myriads,  nay 


§  2.    CREATION  01?  THE  WORLD  IN  SIX  DAYS.  Ixvii 

millions,  or  billions  of  years,  it  is  said,  must  have  been  required 
for  that  purpose.      We  do  not  intend  to  controvert  the  astrono- 
mical or  geological  suppositions  upon  which  this  argument  rests, 
although,  after  all,  they  are  only  hypotheses  to  which  more  or 
less  probability,  but  not  certainty,  attaches.      We  do  not  feel  it 
necessary  to  fall  back  upon  such  a  device,  nor  can  we  help  feel- 
ing, whatever  may  be  said  about  the  uncertainty  of  these  hypo- 
theses, that  a  deep  impression  is  left  upon  the  mind  that  the 
formation  of  the  universe,  from  its  commencement  to  its  present 
state  of  completion,  must  have  occupied  much  more  than  merely 
six  times  twenty-four  hours.      On  similar  grounds,  we  also  set 
aside  every  merely  theological  mode  of  refutation,  such  as  that 
vnth.  God  one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years,  or  that  the  more  or 
less  rapid  formation  of  worlds  depended  not  on  any  length  of 
time,  but  on  the  measure  of  Divine  influence  exerted,  &c.     We 
believe  that,  without   having  recourse   to   such  arguments,  a 
proper  understanding  of  Gren.  i.  is  sufficient  to  show  the  futility 
of  all  such  objections.      We  have  already  seen  that  the  work  of 
the  six  creative  days  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  creation  of  the 
earth,  far  less  with  that  of  the  universe.     Before  it  commenced, 
heaven  and  earth  already  existed,  although  the  latter,  at  least, 
was  as  yet  without  light  and  life,  "  thohu  vabohu."     Our  globe 
received  its  living  organisms  during  the  six  creative  days,  and 
that  in  ascencUng  scale.      Earth  gradually  assumed  its  present 
form,  displayed  its  physical  forces,  received  its  inhabitants,  and 
assumed   its   peculiar   relation   to   the   other   heavenly  bodies. 
Neither  astronomy  nor  geology  can  hazard  an  opinion  about  the 
period  requisite  for  such  purposes.     Astronomy  may  be  right  in 
maintaining  that  the  fixed  stars  must  have  been  in  existence  for 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  years.      But  it  cannot  possibly  assert 
that  sun,  moon,  and  stars  had  regulated  our  earthly  night  and 
day  prior  to  the  fourth  creative  day.      In  order  that  their  light 
might  affect  our  earth,  it  was  necessary  not  only  that  they  should 
have  light,  but  also  that  the  earth  should  be  susceptible  of  light, 
and  astronomy  can  never  dispute  that  this  adaptation  had  taken 
place  at  the  period  fixed  by  the  Bible.     Similarly  we  may  admit, 
so  far  as  geology  is  concerned,  that  immense  peiiods  had  preceded 
the  present  formation  of  the  earth.    These  either  occurred  before 
or  dming  tlie  "  thohu  vabohu."     Against  such  suppositions  there 


Ixviii  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

is  nothing  in  the  Bihle.  But  no  geologist  could  ever  convince 
us  that  the  last  preparation  of  the  surface  of  the  eartli  had  re- 
quired either  more  or  less  than  six  days.^  If  any  doubt  could 
obtain  on  this  point,  it  would  rather  be  why  tlie  Omnipotent  had 
not  given  to  the  earth  in  a  moment  its  present  form.  But  the 
Fathers  have  already  returned  a  satisfactory  reply  to  this  objec- 
tion. As  the  earth  itself  was  designed  for  man,  so  the  duration 
and  distribution  of  God's  creative  agency  bore  special  reference 
to  man.  Grod's  work  upon  the  earth  was  to  be  a  type  of  the 
future  activity  of  man. — A  second  objection  to  the  Biblical  nar- 
rative is  derived  from  the  supposed  unequal  distribution  of  the 
creative  work  over  the  six  days.  This  objection  specially  applies 
to  the  fourth  day's  work.  While  five  whole  days — it  is  said — 
were  spent  upon  our  poor  earth,  which  is  but  a  dot  in  the  uni- 
verse, all  the  other  millions,  or  perhaps  billions,  of  suns  and 
worlds  were  finished  in  one  day.  But  evidently  this  objection 
proceeds  on  the  same  misunderstanding  as  that  which  we  have 
already  refuted.  If,  in  accordance  with  the  real  purport  of  the 
narrative,  wc  understand  that  on  the  fourth  day  only  the  perma- 
nent relation  between  the  earth  and  the  stars  was  fixed,  all  the 
difficulties  conjured  up  immediately  vanish. 


§  3.  THE  CREATION  OF  LIGHT  BEFORE  THE  SUN. 

A  great  many  serious  charges  of  absurdity  and  self-contradic- 
tion are  urged  against  the  account  of  the  fourth  creative  day. 
It  has  frequently  been  declared  ridiculous  that,  according  to  the 

1  We  quote  an  apt  illustration  by  Sclmbeii :  "If,  sixty  or  a  hundred  years 
ago,  any  person  acquainted  with  art  had  been  shewn  a  daguerreotype,  say  of 
the  entrance  of  the  emperor  into  a  city,  he  would  have  exceedingly  admired 
the  painstaking  diligence  of  the  performance.  He  would  have  noticed  innu- 
merable heads  and  forms,  which  from  the  street  and  every  window  were  di- 
rected towards  one  object.  He  would  have  seen  the  emperor  and  all  liis  suite, 
and  indeed  every  small  object,  from  the  stones  of  the  pavement  to  the  slates 
on  the  roofs.  If  such  a  person  should  then  have  been  asked,  how  long  do 
you  think  may  it  have  required  to  finish  this  piece  of  work  ?  he  Avould  have 
replied  :  certainly  not  less  than  six  months  has  the  master  diligently  wrought 
at  it.  And  yet  the  picture  was  taken,  not  in  six  months,  not  in  six  days, 
not  even  in  six  minutes,  but  in  a  few  seconds ;  and  then  not  by  the  operation 
of  man,  but  by  a  ray  of  light.  What !  should  the  Creator  both  of  the  visible 
and  invisible  world  Himself  not  possess  much  higher  powers  than  the  light 
which  is  merely  His  garment?" 


§  3.    THE  CREATION  OF  LIGHT  BEFOKE  THE  SUN.  Ixix 

narrative,  the  sun  was  only  created  on  the  fourtli  clay,  while  the 
light,  which,  as  every  child  knows,  proceeds  only  from  the  in- 
fluence of  the  sun,  is  said  to  have  been  created  on  the  first  day. 
It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  one  should  be  angry  about  the 
levity  of  such  an  argument,  laugh  at  its  shallowness,  or  pity  the 
weakness  of  those  who  urge  it.  For  assuredly  it  must  be  from 
one  or  other  of  these  causes  that  any  person  would  have  supposed 
the  author  of  this  narrative  to  have  been  so  stupid  as  not  to  know 
or  to  have  forgotten  that  it  is  the  sun  which  at  present  causes 
light  and  shadow,  evening  and  morning.  This  argument  tells 
all  the  more,  if  we  regard  the  narrative  as  merely  the  production 
of  a  man  to  whom,  in  other  respects,  we  should  in  that  case  have 
to  give  credit  for  very  great  judgment  and  acuteness.  No  ;  the 
difficulty  here  lies  not  in  this,  that  the  author  was  apparently 
ignorant  of  what  every  child  of  two  years  of  age  knows,  but  that, 
while  doubtless  he  had  known  it,  he  taught  that  a  light  had  been 
created  before  the  sun  illuminated  this  earth.  But  what  shall 
we  say,  if  a  glance  into  any  text-book  on  physics  or  astronomy 
shows  that  the  earth,  and  probably  the  other  planets  also,  possess 
even  now,  after  their  relation  to  the  sun  has  been  permanently 
fixed,  countless  sources  of  producing  light,  and  that  even  the  sun, 
just  as  the  narrative  bears,  is  not  a  light,  but  a  bearer  of  fight,  a 
body  which  developes  and  excites  light  ?  Under  these  circum- 
stances, it  becomes  us  only  to  wonder  how  the  Biblical  writer 
had  obtained  an  insight  into  the  natm-e  of  light,  which  for 
thousands  of  years  has  escaped  the  investigations  of  the  ablest 
enquirers,  thus  anticipating  some  of  the  greatest  of  modern  dis- 
coveries. We  may  here  quote  a  passage  from  Humboldt's 
Cosmos,  where  that  philosopher  speaks  of  the  polar  light :  "  The 
fact  which  gives  the  phenomenon  its  greatest  importance  is,  that 
the  earth  ])ecumes  self-luminous  ;  that,  besides  the  light  which, 
as  a  planet,  it  receives  from  the  central  body,  it  shows  a  capabi- 
lity of  sustaining  a  luminous  process  proper  to  itself  The  in- 
tensity of  the  '  terrestrial  light,'  when  the  rays  are  brightest,  are 
coloured  and  ascend  to  the  zenith,  is  a  little  greater  than  that 
given  by  the  moon  in  her  first  quarter.  Sometimes  it  has  been 
possible  to  read  print  by  it  without  effort.  This  terrestrial 
luminous  process  going  on  almost  uninterruptedly  in  the  polar 
regions,  leads  us  by  analogy  to  the  remarkable  plienomenon 

3 


IXX  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

presented  by  Yeniis  when  the  portion  of  that  planet  not  illumi- 
nated by  the  sun  is  seen  to  shine  with  a  phosphorescent  light  of 
its  own.  It  is  not  improbable  that  the  moon,  Jupiter,  and  the 
comets  radiate  a  light  generated  by  themselves,  in  addition  to 
the  reflected  light  which  they  receive  from  the  sun,  and  which 
is  recognised  by  means  of  the  polariscope.  Without  speaking  of 
the  enigmatical  but  not  uncommon  kind  of  lightning  which,  un- 
accompanied by  thunder,  is  seen  flickering  throughout  the  whole 
of  a  low  cloud  for  minutes  together,  we  have  yet  other  examples 
of  the  ])roduction  of  terrestrial  hght."  (Cosmos,  transl.  by 
Sabine,  seventh  ed.,  vol.  i.,  p.  188).  To  these  remarks  Wagner 
adds:  "  The  polar  light  being  an  intermitting  phenomenon,  is 
an  instance  of  a  change  of  light  and  darloiess  independent  of  the 
sun,  and  exhibits  an  analogy  to  that  succession  wliich  occurred 
before  the  creation  of  the  sun."  Schubert  also  observes :  "  What 
if  every  polar  light,  which  we  call  the  Aurora  of  the  North,  were 
the  last  glimmer  of  twilight  of  a  world-day  that  has  set,  when 
the  whole  earth  was  surrounded  by  an  expanse  of  air,  from 
which  the  electi'o-magnetic  forces  radiated  hght  in  much  greater 
degree  than  that  of  the  polar  light,  and  at  tlie  same  time  with 
animating  heat,  in  a  manner  almost  similar  to  what  still  occurs 
in  the  luminous  atmosphere  of  the  sun." 

But  withal  we  do  not  mean  to  assert  that  the  light  which  pre- 
ceded the  adaptation  of  the  sun  to  its  present  purj)ose  for  our 
earth,  had  been  a  polar  light,  or  a  phenomenon  kindred  to  it. 
We  only  wish  to  show,  that  even  after  the  relation  between  sun 
and  earth  has  been  permanently  settled,  the  earth  still  possesses 
the  power  of  genert^ting  light,  and  that  there  is  nothing  to  pre- 
vent the  supposition  that  before  that  period  this  capacity  had 
been  both  greater  and  more  fully  developed.  We  admit  that  at 
present  any  such  generation  of  light  is  too  much  isolated  and  too 
weak  to  account  for  the  light  of  the  three  first  days,  which  ap- 
pears to  have  been  strong  enough  for  the  origination  of  the 
vegetable  kingdom.  It  must  therefore  be  assumed  that  the  first 
generation  of  light  had  been  essentially  the  same  as  that  which 
is  now  caused  by  the  influence  of  the  sun.  Before  the  present 
relationship  between  sun  and  planet  was  settled,  the  powers  of 
producing  light  which  are  now  concentrated  in  the  sun  may  have 
dwelt  in  tlie  planets  themselves,  and  thus  have  produced  very 


§  4.    CREATION  OF  THE  FIXED  STARS  BEFORE  THE  EARTH.      IxXl 

miic]i  the  same  appearance  as  at  present.  Only  when  on  the 
fourth  clay  the  bodies  of  our  mundane  system  had  been  so  far 
developed,  that  a  permanent  relationship  between  them  could  be 
established,  may  our  present  polar  opposition  between  sun  and 
planet  have  originated,  when  the  sun,  perhaps  on  account  of  its 
greater  volume  and  gravity,  may  have  attracted  to  itself  all  the 
powers  of  exciting  light. 

With  this  view  the  observations  of  astronomy  agree,  as  the 
body  of  the  sun  is  found  to  be  dark  and  of  a  planetary  nature, 
and  that  the  power  of  producing  light  belongs  to  the  luminous 
atmosphere  which  surrounds  it.  The  creative  work  of  the  fourth 
day  may  have  referred  to  the  formation  of  this  luminous  atmos- 
phere, or  else  to  the  concentration  of  the  powers  of  producing 
light  which  had  previously  been  created,  indeed,  but  were  dif- 
fused. 


§  4.  THE  CREATION  OF  THE  FIXED  STARS  BEFORE  THE  EARTH. 

Another  objection  is  founded  on  the  statement  of  the  Bible  that 
all  the  starry  host  had  been  created  only  on  the  fourth  day.  It  is  ab- 
surd, om'  opponents  argu^,  even  to  maintain  that  the  earth,  which 
is  only  a  subordinate  member  of  the  solar  system,  was  created  be- 
fore the  sun  which  rules  over  it,  and  before  the  other  planets. 
But  this  absurdity  is  greatly  increased  when  we  consider  that  the 
stars  nearest  to  us  could  only  have  become  visible  on  the  earth  after 
the  lapse  of  eight  or  twelve  years,  those  of  the  twelfth  magnitude 
not  within  less  than  4000  years,  while  the  starry  masses  of  the 
milky  way,  which  are  scarcely  resolvable  by  the  best  telescopes, 
must  have  been  created  thousands,  perhaps  millions  of  years 
before  their  light  could  have  reached  the  earth.  And  yet  their 
light  has  not  become  visible  only  now,  but  has  shone  in  the  same 
manner  so  far  as  recollection  reaches.  We  will  not  controvert 
these  astronomical  statements,  although  it  is  by  no  means  certain 
that  a  ray  of  light,  which  traverses  the  ether  of  our  planetary 
system  at  the  rate  of  nearly  192,000  miles  "  in  a  whole  long- 
second  "  is  limited  in  other  parts  of  the  universe  to  the  same 
"  snail's  pace."  For  even  if  we  multiplied  that  velocity  by  ten 
or  a  hundred,  or  a  thousand  times,  the  notion  oi'  priority  ot 


Ixxii  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

creation  so  far  as  our  earth  is  concerned,  would  be  open  to  many 
and  weighty  objections.  We  will  not  impugn  these  statements, 
leaving  it  to  astronomers  to  correct  them  if  necessary,  and  we 
attempt  to  remove  any  apparent  contradiction  by  a  more  correct 
interpretation  of  the  Biblical  narrative.  We  have  already  seen 
that  the  Mosaic  account  refers  exclusively  to  the  earth  and  to  what 
belongs  to  it,  that  it  adverts  to  sun,  moon,  and  stars  only  from 
this  point  of  view ;  that  it  does  not  narrate  their  creation,  but 
only  details  that  creative  influence  by  which  they  became  what 
they  were  destined  to  be  ivith  reference  to  the  earth.  But 
whether  their  creation  and  adaptation  to  our  earth  took  place  at 
the  same  time  with  that  of  our  globe  or  at  a  diflPerent  period  the 
narrative  itself  leaves  undetermined.  But  tliis  question  is  answered 
at  a  later  stage  of  revelation.  We  have  already  seen  that  in  the 
book  of  Job  the  stars  are  represented  as  admiring  spectators  of 
the  creation  of  the  earth.  It  follows  that  the  Bible  distinctly 
asserts  that  the  celestial  bodies  were  created  before  the  earth, 
and  that  in  this  respect  at  least  Scripture  and  astronomy  fully 
agree.  Tn  other  passages  also  there  are  hints  and  references  to 
a  twofold  creation,  in  which  the  restoration  of  the  earth  takes 
the  second  place  in  point  of  time. 

Again,  if  it  is  objected  as  a  narro^  view  and  unworthy  of 
revelation  that  the  Mosaic  narrative  represents  the  stars  as  created 
merely  that  their  flickering  Hght  should  scantily  light  up  the 
nightly  darkness  of  our  earth,  the  error  lies  not  with  the  narrative 
but  with  those  who  interpolate  the  wOrd  merely.  Manifestly  the 
narrative  only  describes  what  is  of  importance  with  reference  to 
the  earth,  and  it  is  altogether  arbitrary  to  impute  to  the  writer 
the  opinion  that  the  stars  had  been  created  for  no  otlier  purpose 
than  to  give  Hght  to  the  earth  and  to  adorn  its  nights.  But  if 
any  one  seriously  believes  that  this  purpose  was  too  insignificant 
to  find  a  place  in  the  Biblical  account  of  the  origin  of  our  earth 
we  would  only  ask  him  whether,  when  at  night  he  has  gazed  on 
those  glorious  stars,  he  has  never  felt  how  precious  even  the  glow 
of  their  appearance  was  to  us,  poor  inhabitants  of  the  earth. 


§  5.    THE  CREATION  OF  THE  TLANETARY  SYSTEM.        Ixxiii 


§  5.    THE  CREATION  OF  THE  PLANETARY  SYSTEM. 

It  is  further  said,  that  the  connection  of  the  planets  of  our 
system,  the  similarity  of  their  constitution  and  relation  to  the 
sun,  clearly  prove  that  their  origin  was  the  same,  both  as  con- 
cerns the  material  from  which  they  were  formed  and  the  period 
when  they  were  finished.  This  we  admit.  But  we  protest 
against  the  idea  that  this  inference  is  decidedly  opposed  to  the 
Mosaic  account  of  creation,  which  represents  the  formation  of 
the  earth,  and  that  of  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  which  had  only  been 
made  after  the  earth  was  completed,  as  wholly  independent  of 
each  other.  Gen.  i.  only  relates  how  the  earth  became  what  it 
j3resently  is — a  place  of  abode  and  activity  for  man.  It  adverts 
to  sun  moon  and  stars  only  when,  and  in  so  far  as  they  sustain 
a  part  in  the  history  of  our  earth.  But  the  record  was  not 
intended  to  state  that  the  earth,  the  sun,  and  the  rest  of  the 
planets  and  satellites  were  formed  of  the  same  original  material, 
that  their  individualisation  took  place  at  the  same  time,  or  that 
their  completion  was  contemporaneous.  That  such  had  probably 
been  the  case  we  gather  from  the  discoveries  of  astronomy.  And, 
however  uncertain  the  theories  which  speculation  has  reared  on 
the  basis  of  astronomical  observations,  it  will  be  evident  that 
there  is  room  enough  in  the  Bible  for  any  such  speculation.  We 
shall  only  advert  to  one  ingenious  hypothesis.  G.  H.  von  Schubert, 
adopting  the  \dew  of  Scripture,  that  the  system  of  which  our 
earth  forms  part  had,  before  the  appearance  of  man,  been  the  scene 
of  a  history  of  the  most  comprehensive  and  important  character, 
regards  it  as  probable  that  during  the  first  period  of  its  existence, 
our  planetary  system  may  have  been  a  single  and  unique  astral 
formation,  and  that  it  had  only  become  separated  into  individual 
bodies  connected  into  one  system,  after  the  catastrophe  which 
closed  that  period,  or  rather  at  the  second  creation  in  which  it 
was  prepared  for  a  new  [lud  not  less  important  phase  in  the 
history  of  the  world.  He  conceives  that  during  that  period  it 
was  like  the  planetary  iiebula3,  with  a  dense  nucleus,  whose 
luminous  atmospheres  extend  to  millions  of  billions  of  miles. 
"  Such  an  astral  luminous  atmosphere  may  have  contained  a  ful- 
ness of  elements  sufficient  for  the  production  of  other  worlds 


Ixxiv  TEE  BIBLE  AND  ASTKONOMY. 

than  our  small  globe.  Even  if  it  was  like  the  smallest  planetary 
nebulaj  which  the  telescope  reveals,  it  filled  a  much  greater 
space  than  our  present  solar  system  with  all  the  orbits  of  its 
planets  and  comets.  .  .  .  We  conjectiure  that  in  this 
primeval  Imuinous  atmosphere,  not  only  the  electro -magnetic 
forces,  but  even  the  higher  original  forces  of  life  were  concen- 
trated. ...  It  gave  light  and  heat  to  the  nucleus  beneath  ; 
it  formed  the  essential  part  of  the  star  which,  like  the  soUd  mass 
of  a  planet,  constituted  the  supporting  centre,  and  by  the  force  of 
gravity  attracted  the  lighter  atmosphere  around,  while  this 
envelope  itself  resembled  the  surface  of  the  planet  upon  which 
alone  organic  life  flourishes.  .  .  The  sacred  record  speaks  of 
the  creative  days  and  their  works,  among  which  man  appeared 
last  and  highest  on  the  eve  of  the  Sabbath.  The  measure  of 
time  only  commenced  with  him  and  with  his  history  ;  the  suc- 
cession of  years  began  when  this  primeval  luminous  atmosphere 
was  changed  into  a  sun  and  a  heaven  of  planets.  The  history 
of  the  former  principality  and  of  its  powers,  as  well  as  their 
influence  upon  the  works  which  were  preparatory  to  the  decree 
of  the  future,  has  not  been  disclosed  and  cannot  be  understood  in 
time,"  To  this  view  we  have  nothing  to  object.  But  we  may 
also  refer  to  other  formations  of  the  astral  heavens  which  may 
equally  illustrate  the  first  and  original  state  of  our  system.  Thus 
we  may  remind  the  reader  of  the  famihes  of  double  and  multiple 
stars,  or  of  the  presence  of  dark  bodies  involved  in  the  orbits  of 
kincbed  suns.  Perhaps  our  system  originally  represented  such 
a  family  of  stars  whose  primeval  harmony  and  glory  was  de- 
stroyed by  a  great  catastrophe,  and  restored  in  a  new  and  pecu- 
liar manner  dming  the  six  creative  days ;  or  perhaps  it  formed  a 
double  star,  one  member  of  which  was  broken  up  and  destroyed 
by  tiiat  catastrophe,  thus  furnishing  the  substratum  for  the  for- 
mation of  the  planets  and  comets  of  our  system,  the  relation  of 
which  to  the  sun  was  only  restored  on  the  fourth  day.  On  ail 
such  questions  Scripture  gives  no  decisive  answer,  leaving  ample 
room  for  conjecture. 


§  6.    THE  CELESTIAL  WORLDS  AIIE  INHABITED.  LxXV 


§  G.    THE  CELESTIAL  WORLDS  ARE  INHABITED. 

Another  objection  is  closely  connected  with  that  already  re- 
futed, viz.,  that  the  Bible  teaches  that  sun,  moon,  and  stars  have 
no  other  purpose  than  that  of  giving  light  to  the  earth.  Such  a 
view,  it  is  said,  excludes  the  idea  that  the  other  celestial  bodies 
are  inhabited  by  reasonable,  spiritual  beings.  It  is  urged  that 
the  Biblical  theory  is  so  narrow  as  only  to  assign  inhabitants  to 
the  earth,  and  only  to  admit  that  a  history  and  development  had 
taken  place  on  its  surface,  while  common  sense  showed  that  the 
innumerable  worlds  which  in  part  possess  a  like  nature  and  cos- 
mical  position  with  our  eartli,  but  infinitely  surpass  it  in  extent, 
importance,  and  dignity,  must  be  the  theatre  of  an  analogous 
but  infinitely  higher  life.  The  force  of  this  objection  is  broken 
when  we  remind  the  reader,  that  although  Scripture  refers  to  the 
stars  as  gi^dng  light  to  the  earth,  it  does  not  thereby  exclude 
their  higher  and  independent  destiny.  It  is  indeed  true  that 
common  sense,  although  certainly  not  astronomy,  which  never 
can  pronounce  with  certainty  on  such  subjects,  leads  us  to 
conclude  that  every  celestial  body  must  offer  a  theatre  for  the 
life  and  activity  of  spiritual  beings,  and  that  both  faith  and 
philosophy,  if  not  misled  either  by  erroneous  exegesis,  or  by 
a  Pantheistic  deification  of  man,  will  readily  admit  that  these 
millions  of  celestial  boches  are  not  uninhabited.  So  meagre  a 
view  of  the  world  can  never  be  supported  by  any  analogies,  such 
as  of  a  liall  in  a  palace,  where  the  profusion  of  lights  and  of 
costly  articles  is  intended  to  set  off  the  glory  of  the  king.  All 
such  reasonings  are  rebutted  by  what  both  faith  and  reflection 
convince  us  to  be  impossible.  It  is  the  same  God  who  dwells  in 
heaven  above,  and  onniipresent  reigns  upon  the  earth ;  a  God 
who  supports  these  systems  of  worlds,  and  preserves  the  dust  in 
the  sunbeam  ;  a  God  of  life,  whose  every  step  and  breath  lias 
called  forth  life.  If,  then,  our  poor  earth  is  all  peopled — from 
man  who  lifts  his  head  to  the  stars,  to  the  worm  that  crawls  in  the 
dust — if  every  drop  of  water,  every  grain  of  sand  and  leaflet  con- 
tains a  world  of  living  beings,  and  if  this  mass  of  living  organisms, 
which  in  innumerable  varied  formations  move  upon  the  earth, 
attains  completion  only  in  that  being  who  is  able  to  recognise 


Ixxvi  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTKONOMY. 

and  to  praise  his  Creator — in  man  who  is  the  mediator  between 
the  Creator  and  all  these  creatures  which  were  called  forth  for  His 
glory — ^liow  should  those  starry  choirs  be  destitute  of  life,  or  how 
could  we  doubt  it,  that  there  also  self-conscious  creatures  move 
in  high  spheres  of  spiritual  and  free  activity,  for  the  purpose  of 
owning  and  praising  their  Creator  ? 

It  is  not  true  that  the  Bible  contradicts  the  view  that  the  stars 
are  peopled  by  personal  beings  ;  in  our  opinion  it  rather  contains 
allusions  of  an  opposite  character.  In  the  Bible,  the  heavens, 
and  therefore  those  worlds  which  constitute  the  heavens,  are  de- 
scribed as  the  abode  of  unnumbered  hosts  of  spiritual  beings, 
who  are  designated  as  angels,  and  described  as  being  the  holy 
messengers  and  servants  of  God,  as  executing  His  will,  and 
praising  His  glory  and  majesty.  And  in  one  passage  at  least 
(Job  xxxviii.)  these  holy  and  blessed  spirits  are  placed  in  such 
close  relation,  not  only  to  the  heavens  in  general,  but  to  the  in- 
dimlual  celestial  boches  in  particular,  as  to  justify  our  view  that 
the  angels  inhabit  these  worlds. 


§  7.    THE  AXGELS  AS  THE  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  FIXED  STARS. 

Astronomy  is  of  course  incapable  of  pronouncing  about  the 
nature  and  destiny  of  the  spiritual  inhabitants  of  the  stars.  It 
only  affords  isolated  and  unsatisfactory  ghmpses  of  the  physical 
constitution  of  these  stars.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Bible,  which 
is  an  exclusively  religious  revelation,  cannot  and  does  not  teach 
anything  about  the  nature  and  constitution  of  the  stars.  But  it 
contains  inchcations  that  these  stars  are  the  abode  of  angels. 
Hence  the  Bible  and  astronomy  will,  in  this  respect,  only  agTee 
or  disagree  if  the  revelations  of  Scripture  concerning  the  nature 
of  the  angels,  and  the  disclosures  of  astronomy  concerning  the 
constitution  of  the  stars,  are  found  to  be  either  compatible  or  not, 
in  respect  of  the  fitness  of  these  places  to  be  the  abode  of  such 
beings. 

The  splendid  discoveries  of  Herschel  have  dispelled  the  views 
formerly  entertained,  as  if  the  order  and  arrangement  of  other 
celestial  bodies  were  merely  a  monotonous  repetition  of  that  pre- 
valent in  our  own  svstem.     Other  and  higher  relations  obtain  in 


§  7.    THE  ANGELS  AS  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  FIXED  STARS.    Ixxvii 

those  worlds,  and  the  spirits  who  inhabit  them  must  likewise  be 
different  in  nature,  and  have  other  destinies  and  capabilities  than 
the  denizens  of  earth.  Modern  astronomical  investigations  have 
shown  it  to  be  not  indeed  impossible,  but  improbable,  that  the 
luminous  worlds  of  the  fixed  stars  are  suns  like  ours,  having  a 
solid,  dark,  planetary  nucleus,  and  being  accompanied  by  satel- 
lites, which  depend  upon  them  for  light  and  lieat.  They  have 
indeed — at  least  some  of  them — their  faithful  attendants,  but 
their  connection  is  not  one  of  physical  force,  but  of  affinity  and 
sympathy — not  of  subordination,  but  of  co-ordination.  There,  as 
it  were,  suns  move  round  suns,  one  glorious  sphere  around  an- 
other equal  to  it  in  kind,  however  they  may  differ  in  extent  or 
splendour.  In  those  organisms  there  is  not  anything  like  the 
physical  and  polar,  we  would  almost  call  it  the  sexual,  relation 
whicli  in  our  system  manifests  itself  as  contrast  between  sun  and 
})lanets,  between  tliat  wliich  gives  and  those  which  receive. 
There  we  do  not  find  that  mass  and  gravity,  which  forms  the 
law  of  our  system ;  there  we  miss  the  alternation  of  light  and 
darkness  ;  there  is  no  night  there  to  obstruct  life  and  its  duties, 
neither  frost  nor  winter  to  benumb  its  energies. 

But  although  those  luminous  worlds  possess  not  the  charac- 
teristics of  coarse  material  existence  with  which  we  meet  on  our 
globe,  tliey  are  not  immaterial ;  although  without  the  succession 
between  light  and  darkness  which  here  takes  place,  it  does  not 
follow  that  their  light  has  not  a  corresponding  substratum  to 
which  it  may  attach  itself  Only  the  material  has  there  not  as- 
sumed the  form  of  lifeless  stone,  nor  does  darkness  contend  with 
light.  The  two  rather  pervade  each  other,  as  do  soul  and  body, 
and  thus  form  a  real  unity.  In  proof,  we  remind  the  reader  of 
the  glorious  combination  of  colours  exhibited  by  the  single  stars, 
but  especially  by  the  double  stars,  "  like  those  of  flowers  in 
spring,  or  those  on  the  wings  of  the  butterfly."  Colour  is  light 
manifesting  itself  through  darkness,  and  by  it  attaining  its  pecu- 
liar dcfiniteness ;  it  is  a  vital  union  of  light  and  darkness.  A 
profound  thinker  observes :  "  In  our  planetary  system,  sun  and 
planet,  light  and  darkness,  are  separate,  and  form  a  totality  only 
in  an  outward  respect ;  there  they  pervade  each  other.  .  .  . 
Thus  each  part  becomes  the  whole,  and  yet  remains  a  part  of  it. 
Here  the  harmonious  unity  has  given  place  to  conflicting  con- 


Ixxviii  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTROISrOMT. 

trasts  ;  niglit  contends  with  day,  light  with  darkness,  heat  with 
cold,  death  with  life,  and  the  body  with  its  soul.  But  there  all 
these  contrasts  are  reconciled  ;  light  and  shadow,  day  and  night, 
are  united  ;  night  is  lit  up  by  day,  and  the  body  pervaded  by  the 
soul.  No  change  of  light  and  darkness  takes  place,  millions  of 
suns  shed  an  eternal  day,  yet  with  a  brilliancy  so  mild  as  not  to 
cause  destroying  heat,  even  as  there  is  no  room  for  benumbing 
cold.  The  dark  material  substratum  is  pervaded  and  lit  up  by 
a  higher  breath  of  life,  and  the  latter  attains  its  outward  appear- 
ance, vital  existence,  and  fidness,  by  its  essential  union  with  the 
former.  For  whatever  really  lives  and  works  consists  of  a  com- 
bination of  what  is  diverse,  of  a  union  of  body  and  soul.  Only 
through  the  medium  of  darkness  does  light  become  colour,  only 
through  the  medium  of  the  body  does  the  soul  manifest  its 
peculiar  activity.  The  offspring  of  like  and  like  is  still-born ; 
where  unlike  and  like  are  united,  a  sweet  sound  is  produced." 

Again,  if  in  those  upper  worlds,  instead  of  the  coarse  body  of 
earth  and  stone  to  which  we  are  accustomed,  there  are  glorious 
luminous  bodies  infinitely  refined,  and  therefore  joyously  and 
freely  pursuing  their  still  and  majestic  courses ;  the  restless, 
ceaseless  pushing,  "  the  mutual  powerful  attraction  and  repulsion, 
the  passionate  seeking  and  fleeing,  which  we  here  witness,  has 
no  place  in  those  worlds."  Here  the  laws  of  gravity  bear  iron 
rule  ;  the  force  of  gravitation  is  an  external  and  despotic  power, 
and  it  alone  keeps  the  celestial  bodies  together,  wliich  else  would 
fall  to  pieces.  Above,  the  same  laiv  obtains  ;  but  love,  which  in 
this  respect  also  may  be  regarded  as  the  fulfdling  of  the  law, 
shuts  out  slavish  fear.  The  effect  is  the  same,  but  the  cause  is  dif- 
ferent. There  the  categorical  imperative  of  physical  force  is  not  the 
taskmaster  to  exact  slavish  obedience,  but  a  higher  will,  in  which 
liberty  and  necessity  have  been  combined,  produces  the  same 
effects,  yet  in  higher  form  and  potency.  Perhaps  other  forces 
also  may  there  obtain,  such  as  the  mysterious  forces  of  magnetic 
electricity,  which,  with  the  rapidity  of  thought,  traverse  even  our 
earth.  There  they  may  be  on  an  infinitely  larger  scale,  and  with 
results  vastly  more  glorious.  Thus  "  one  sun  there  pursues  his 
course,  linked  fraternally  to  another  :  a  bond  of  affinity  higlier 
than  that  which  here  impels  with  destructive  force  one  stone 
against  another,  connects  the  hosts  of  worlds  of  light."     Mys- 


§  7.    THE  ANGELS  AS  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  FIXED  STARS.      Ixxix 

terious  bonds  of  sympathy  and  affinity  bind  together  those 
worlds.  "  There  gravity  no  longer  draws  the  individual  to  seek 
in  some  other  being  the  central  point  which  it  has  not  in  itself, 
but  by  free  impulse  all  individual  bodies,  all  central  single 
points,  together  tend  towards  the  highest  centre." 

It  were  easy  to  pursue  these  speculations,  and  to  descant  on  the 
plenitude  of  life  and  on  its  happiness  in  those  regions.  But  what 
are  we  to  believe  concerning  the  inhabitants  of  these  worlds  ? 
Are  we  warranted  in  supposing  that  throughout  creation  there  is 
the  same  correspondence  between  abode  and  inhabitant  as  between 
body  and  soul  ?  The  pliysical  world  which  we  inhabit  every- 
where reflects  blessing  and  cursing,  love  and  hatred,  sorrow  and 
joy,  and  in  our  breast  awakens  kindred  feelings ;  we  realise  it 
that  this  nature  is  adapted  to  us  and  we  to  it.  But  in  those 
worlds  we  descry  not  the  dark  picture  of  sin  and  of  death  ;  there 
light  is  not  in  hostile  conflict  with  darlmess,  there  life  is  with- 
out death,  harmony  without  disunion,  day  without  night,  and 
waldng  without  sleeping.  These  worlds  must  therefore  be  the 
abode  of  spirits  who,  from  their  own  experience,  know  nothing 
of  sin  and  death,  whose  physical  constitution  requires  not  the 
succession  of  light  and  darkness,  day  and  night,  and  is  not 
affected  by  the  alternation  of  heat  and  cold.  There  life  is  not 
divided  into  the  antagonistic  poles  of  generation  and  corruption, 
of  birth  and  death.  There  the  sexual  contrast  and  that  of  solar 
and  planetary  principles  is  done  away  with,  and  there  we  expect 
to  find  those  who  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage. 
Instead  of  the  dark  and  heavy  frame  which  is  bound  to  this 
planet,  which  weighs  down  thought  and  prevents  its  flight,  the 
inhabitants  of  those  regions  possess  etherial  bodies  capable  of 
never-ceasing  motions  and  of  continuous  renovation,  adajjted  to 
the  spirit  which  dwells  in  them,  and  ever  willing  to  obey  its 
behests.  These  holy  inhabitants  of  light  are  called  in  the  Scrip- 
ture angels,  and  are  frequently  referred  to  in  connection  with  the 
celestial  worlds — so  that  in  this  respect  science  and  revelation 
asrree. 


IXXX  THK  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOBIY. 


§  7.    CONTINUATION. 

We  now  advert  to  some  objections  which  may  be  urged  against 
the  above  views.  First  of  all,  it  might  appear  that  the  almost 
infinite  distance  between  the  stars  and  the  earth  would  scarcely 
accord  with  the  Biblical  doctrine  of  the  influence  of  angels  upon, 
and  their  continued  assistance  and  protection  of,  the  children  of 
the  kingdom.  But  it  is  evident  that  this  objection  only  applies 
if  we  attribute  to  the  angels  the  limitations  which  we  experience. 
Even  here  we  are  brought  into  contact  with  forces  of  which  the 
velocity  for  surpasses  that  of  light.  Thus  the  electric  telegraph 
communicates  information  with  a  rapidity  wliich  defies  measure- 
ment. Again,  the  rapidity  with  which  the  influence  of  gravita- 
tion passes  from  one  celestial  body  to  another,  must  be  ten 
million  times  that  of  light.  All  these  velocities,  however,  bear 
no  comparison  to  the  rapidity  of  thought.  It  is  true  that  our 
bodies  cannot  keep  pace  with  its  course,  but  will  those  holy 
beings  who  are  termed  spirits  not  have  frames  more  obedient  to 
the  behests  of  mind  than  ours  are  ?  Shall  they  not  be  able  to 
transport  themselves  with  the  rapidity  of  thought,  and,  in  their 
case,  mind  not  out-distance  body  ? 

Again,  it  is  argued  that  the  variety  of  formations  in  the  starry 
worlds  cannot  be  regarded  as  in  harmony  with  the  unity  of  nature 
and  destiny  attributed  to  the  angels.  But,  on  the  one  hand, 
Scripture  refers  to  a  diiference  among  individual  classes  of  angels, 
and  to  the  existence  of  different  degrees  of  dignity  and  power ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  where  the  angels  are  designated  as  a 
homogeneous  community,  this  refers  only  to  their  nature  as  con- 
trasted with  that  of  man.  We  are,  indeed,  aware  that  our 
former  remarks  as  to  the  adaptation  between  angels  and  stars — 
especially  in  regard  of  the  absence  of  the  relation  between  the 
solar  and  planetary  systems — are  based  upon  astronomical  obser- 
vations wliich  as  yet  are  far  from  being  quite  settled.  But 
even  if  these  observations  were  mistaken,  and  if  there  also 
satellites  received  from  suns  their  light  and  heat,  many  reasons 
would  still  occur  to  our  minds  leading  us  to  infer  that  these 
worlds  were  inhabited  by  angels.  In  the  systems  of  the  double 
and  multiple  stars  at  least,  where  thousands  of  suns  form  one 


§  8.    INHABITANTS  OF  THE  PLANETS.  IxXXl 

system,  the  planets,  if  there  he  such,  must  he  composed  of  a 
material  jjcculiarly  refined,  so  as  not  to  be  hurled  against  each 
other  or  against  their  suns.  In  that  case  our  former  remarks 
about  the  difference  of  the  bodies  of  their  inhabitants,  as  compared 
with  those  of  ours,  would  still  hold  true.  Again,  such  planets 
Avould  derive  never-failing  light  from  the  influence  of  the  nume- 
rous suns  around  them.  But  what  if  it  be  true,  as  Bessel  main- 
tains, that  in  the  regions  of  fixed  stars  the  most  brilliant  of 
suns  revolve  around  bodies  wliicli  probably  are  dark?  We 
frankly  confess  that  we  do  not  as  yet  see  our  way  to  harmonise 
this  discovery,  if,  indeed,  it  were  established,  with  our  views. 
Still,  we  make  no  doubt  that  some  place  might  be  found  for  it. 
But  as  yet  these  discoveries  are  highly  problematical. 


§  8.  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  EXTRA-MUNDANE  BODIES  OF  OUR  SOLAR 

SYSTEM. 

Scripture  mentions  only  two  kinds  of  personal,  free  and  spiri- 
tual, beings — angels  and  men.  But  since,  according  to  the 
Bible,  all  men  are  derived  from  one  pair,  and  even  astronomical 
observation  shews  that  the  other  planets  of  our  system  cannot  be 
the  abode  of  men  constituted  as  we  are,  shall  we  conclude  that 
they  are  inhabited  by  angels  of  an  order  different  from  those 
which  tenant  the  other  starry  worlds  ?  But  against  this  view  there 
are  two  insuperable  objections — that  of  the  necessary  ditference 
between  men  and  angels,  which  implies  also  an  abode  totally 
different,  and  that  of  the  generic  unity  of  the  angels.  Or  shall 
we  suppose,  as  many  have  done,  that  on  pleasant  Mars,  on  bright 
Venus,  and  on  the  royal  Sun,  dwell  the  souls  of  the  blessed,  and 
amid  the  dreary  wastes  of  Jupiter,  or  in  the  prisons  of  the  Moon, 
those  of  the  condemned  ?  But  we  cannot  believe  that  the  latter 
bodies  were  created  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  be  prison- 
houses,  and  that  at  a  period  wlien  sin  and  death  had  not  yet 
entered  our  world.  At  any  rate  this  view  is  unsupported  by 
Scripture,  which  speaks  of  Hades  only  in  figurative  language, 
and  in  terms  which,  if  they  refer  to  any  particular  locality,  would 
rather  lead  us  to  look  for  it  under  the  earth  than  in  the  heavens. 
Or  are  we  to  suppose  that  the  apostate  spirits  wliich,  according 

/ 


Ixxxii  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

to  Scripture,  inliabit  waste  places  (Matt.  xii.  43  ;  Luke  xi.  24), 
and  tlie  barren  regions  of  the  air  (Eph.  ii.  2;  vi.  12),  are 
banished  to  those  volcanoes  and  wastes,  to  those  darknesses  and 
tempests  ?  But  the  language  of  Scripture  would  rather  lead  us 
to  suppose  that  their  abode  was  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
of  the  Earth,  amid  the  wastes  and  tempests  and  darkness  of  this 
world.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  is  most  probable  that,  like  the 
waste  places  of  the  Earth,  those  regions  are  as  yet  untenanted  by 
spiritual  beings.  It  appears  to  us,  that  if  man  had  been 
obedient  to  his  divine  destiny,  and,  in  his  state  of  innocence, 
peopled  this  planet  to  its  utmost  bounds,  his  mission  might  have 
been  extended  to  those  neighbouring  worlds  which  are  so  closely 
related  to  ours,  so  as  to  draw  them  also  within  the  circle  of  his 
activity,  and  thus  to  lead  them  towards  that  perfection  for  which 
they  were  destined.  In  the  course  of  his  development  he  might 
perhaps  have  acquired  new  powers  by  which  to  pass  from  world 
to  world,  as  now  he  passes  from  shore  to  shore.  But  when  sin 
arrested  and  disturbed  the  development  of  the  race,  so  that  the 
destined  goal  could  only  be  reached  by  the  incarnation  of  Him 
who  became  the  second  Adam,  the  progress  of  these  neighbour- 
ing worlds  towards  perfection  was  also  suspended  and  arrested. 
Perhaps,  as  our  earth  is  destined  to  pass  tlirough  a  final  catas- 
trophe, in  which  all  the  elements  of  ungodHness  are  to  be  con- 
served, and  renovated  earth  will  issue  perfected  from  the  flames 
of  judgment,  these  planets  may  then  be  correspondingly  affected, 
even  as  probably  they  shared  in  the  catastrophe  by  which  earth 
became  "tliohu  vabohu." 


§  9.    THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST. 

We  come  now  to  the  main  objection  urged  against  the  repre- 
sentation which  the  Bible  offers  of  the  world.  It  concerns  nothing 
less  than  that  fundamental  doctrine  of  the  gospel,  the  incarna- 
tion of  God  in  Christ.  Is  it  conceivable,  our  opponents  ask, 
that  the  Lord  and  Creator  of  those  unnumbered  and  boundless 
suns,  compared  with  which  our  earth  appears  like  a  drop  in  the 
ocean,  should  have  fixed  on  this  small  dot  in  his  universe,  to 
make  it  the  scene  of  His  manifestation,  to  take  upon  Himself  all 


§  9.    THE  INCARXATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.  Ixxxiii 

the  woe  of  it,=5  inlial)itaiits,  for  tlieir  sakes  to  veil  His  glory  under 
a  body,  to  redeem  them  by  His  sufferings  and  His  death,  to  erect 
among  them  the  throne  of  His  glory,  and  to  make  them  partakers 
of  His  majesty  ?  Among  those  unnumbered  celestial  worlds, 
was  there  not  one  better  adapted,  and  more  worthy  to  become 
the  scene  of  His  most  glorious  manifestation,  the  centre  of  the 
universe,  and  the  everlasting  throne  of  His  immediate  presence  ? 
Have  not  these  worlds  the  same  claim  to  such  distinction,  or  is 
the  Just  One  arbitrary  and  partial  in  his  dealings  ?  We  admit 
that  the  contrast  pointed  out  is  such  as  to  stagger.  But  can  we 
assign  limits  to  Him  who  has  created  these  worlds,  and  among 
them  our  little  earth  ?  Can  we  apply  to  the  Almighty  the 
measure  of  our  own  understanding,  or  determine  what  becomes 
Him,  or  what  is  possible  for  Him  ?  Are  we  to  say  to  Him, 
"Hitherto,  and  not  further?" — or  shall  we  measure  His  free 
grace  by  cubic  miles,  and  His  love  by  the  size  of  the  fixed  stars  ? 
Shall  Ave  forbid  Him  from  choosing,  in  wisdom  and  grace,  "the 
foolish  things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  wise,  and  the  weak 
things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  things  which  are  mighty, 
and  base  things  of  the  world,  and  things  which  are  despised,  and 
things  that  are  not,  to  bring  to  nought  things  that  are,  that  no 
flesh  should  glory  in  His  presence  ?"  "  Hath  He  not  power  to 
do  what  He  will  with  His  own  ?  Is  our  eye  evil  because  He  is 
good  ?" 

The  discoveries  of  the  microscope  have  frequently  been  men- 
tioned as  counterbalancing  those  revelations  of  the  telescope  that 
have  given  rise  to  such  doubts.^  For  if  the  microscope  discloses 
a  world  of  life  in  every  atom  and  drop  of  water,  we  may  at  least 
learn  from  this  to  measure  the  greatness,  wisdom,  power,  and 
majesty  of  God  by  another  standard  than  the  extent  of  the  fixed 
stars.  However  small  and  insignificant  our  earth  may  be  in 
comparison  with  the  universe,  it  teems  with  richly  varied  worlds, 
being  in  this  respect  a  universe  on  a  small  scale.  Besides,  it  has 
been  shown  that  this  apparent  contnist  has  arisen  from  compar- 
ing two  very  difierent  spheres — those  of  natm-e  and  of  spirit,  of 
the  material  and  the  personal,  of  space  and  of  will.  The  greatest 
deeds  and  marvels  of  genius  may  be  enacted  within  a  very  small 
space,  and  the  greatest  glory  of  spirit  is  this,  that  it  makes  what 

^  See  especially  Dr  Chalmers'  Astronom.  Disc,  3d  Disc. 

/2 


Ixxxiv  THE  BIBLE  jVND  ASTRONOMY. 

appears  small  the  theatre  of  its  most  grand  revelations  !  Still, 
considerations  like  these  scarcely  remove  all  our  difficulties.  One 
astonishment  is  only  counterbalanced  by  another  ;  but  the  ques- 
tion is  not  satisfactorily  settled,  and  we  shall  have  to  attempt 
whether  it  is  not  possible  to  reconcile  Scripture  and  science  with- 
out setting  one  inextricable  problem  against  another. 


§  10.    CONTINUATION. 

What  if  the  earth  alone,  of  all  worlds,  stood  in  need  of  such 
a  manifestation  of  the  Deity  ?  What  if  it  alone  were  fallen  into 
sin  and  misery  ?  Would  not  the  idea  that  it  alone  stood  in  need 
of  redemption  set  aside  our  former  difficulty  about  its  compara- 
tive insignificance,  and  unworthiness  to  claim  such  a  distinction  ? 
Eternal  wisdom  itself  says,  "  What  think  ye  ?  if  a  man  have  an 
hundred  sheep,  and  one  of  them  be  gone  astray,  doth  he  not 
leave  the  ninety  and  nine,  and  goeth  into  the  moimtains,  and 
seeketh  that  which  is  gone  astray  ?  And  if  so  be  that  he  find  it, 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  he  rejoiceth  more  of  that  sheep  than  of  the 
ninety  and  nine  wliich  went  not  astray."  And  shall  the  supreme 
Shepherd,  who  tends  his  millions  of  sheep  in  the  vast  expanse  of 
heaven,  not  leave  them  to  seek  this  the  least  and  most  sorely 
stricken  of  them  ?  It  requires  His  care  more  than  the  others, 
for  without  it,  it  would  perish.  Shall  He  not,  then,  follow  it,  in 
infinite  love  and  compassion  seek  and  restore,  and  greatly  rejoice 
over  it  ?  To  leave  the  others  is  not  to  forsake  them  ;  they  are 
securely  kept  and  guarded.  If  our  world  is  the  only  i^rovince 
within  the  vast  empire  of  the  Deity  in  winch  rebellion  has  broken 
out,  and  where  all  the  hostile  forces  are  concentrated,  the  Eternal 
King  will  surely  not  care  less  for  it,  than  an  earthly  king  under 
similar  circumstances  would  care  for  the  smallest  and  poorest 
province  of  his  realm.  In  such  a  case. a  monarch  would  advance 
with  all  his  forces,  put  down  the  rebels,  and  extend  pardon  to 
those  who  were  inveigled  in  participation  of  their  guilt — he  would 
surely  seek  to  restore  peace  and  order.  In  the  language  of  Dr. 
Chalmers  (Astron.  Disc,  vi.),  "  But  what  if  this  be  applicable  to 
beings  of  a  higher  nature  ?  If,  on  the  one  .hand,  God  be  jealous 
of  His  honour,  and,  on  the  other,  there  be  proud  and  exalted 


§  10.    THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.  IxXXV 

spirits,  who  scowl  defiance  at  Him  and  at  His  monarchy,  then 
let  the  material  prize  of  victory  be  insignificant  as  it  may,  it  is 
the  victory  in  itself  which  upholds  the  impulse  of  the  keen  and 
.stimulated  rivalry.  If  by  the  sagacity  of  one  infernal  mind,  a 
single  planet  has  been  seduced  from  its  allegiance,  and  brought 
under  the  ascendancy  of  him  who,  in  the  Scriptures,  is  called  the 
god  of  tliis  world,  and  if  the  errand  on  which  the  Kedeemer  came 
was  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil,  then  let  this  planet  have  all 
the  littleness  which  astronomy  has  assigned  to  it — call  it,  what 
it  is,  one  of  the  smaller  islets  which  float  on  the  ocean  of  immen- 
sity— it  has  become  the  theatre  of  such  a  competition  as  may 
have  all  the  desires  and  all  the  energies  of  a  divided  universe 
embarked  upon  it.  It  involves  in  it  other  objects  than  the  single 
recovery  of  our  species.  -It  decides  liigher  questions — it  stands 
Unked  with  the  supremacy  of  Grod,  ...  To  an  infidel  ear, 
all  this  may  carry  the  sound  of  something  wild  and  visionary 
along  with  it ;  but  though  only  known  through  the  medium  of 
revelation,  after  it  is  known,  who  can  fail  to  recognise  its  har- 
mony with  the  great  lineaments  of  human  experience  ?  Who 
does  not  recognise  in  these  facts  much  that  goes  to  explain  why 
our  planet  has  taken  so  conspicuous  a  position  in  the  foreground 
of  histoiy  ?" 

Arguments  such  as  these  are  not  only  admissible  in  themselves, 
but  accord  with  the  results  of  astronomical  observations.  The 
difference  of  nature  between  the  fixed  stars  and  our  own  planetary 
system,  and  the  absence  in  those  upper  regions  of  those  condi- 
tions which  here  testify  of  sin  and  death,  appear  to  indicate  that 
they  are  the  abode  of  holy  and  unfallen  spirits,  who  require  not 
redemption  or  moral  restoration.  Scripture,  also,  represents 
man  alone  as  capable  of  redemption  ;  and  hence,  not  indeed  as 
the  only  fallen  personal  creature,  but  as  the  only  one  requiring 
salvation.  But  here  we  also  perceive  how  unsatisfactory  this 
mode  of  argumentation  is.  Scripture  speaks  of  a  twofold  fall — 
one  among  men,  the  other  among  angels.  Both  seem  to  have 
taken  place  on  our  earth.  But  this  fact  throws  no  Hglit  on  the 
subject  under  consideration,  since  the  incarnation  of  God  upon 
the  earth  was  not  on  behalf  of  the  fallen  angels  who  were  its  first 
iahabitants,  but  on  behalf  of  fallen  man  who  succeeded  them. 
Besides,  the  reply  falls  short  of  the  objection  in  this  respect  also, 


IxXXvi  THE  BIBLE  AND  ABTRONOMT. 

that  the  Bible  not  only  teaches  that  in  the  covenant  of  grace 
man  was  placed  on  the  same  level  with  the  unfallen  spirits,  but 
that  he  was  elevated  ahove  all  other  creatures,  and  that  similarly 
the  earth  also  was  to  be  raised  above  all  the  other  celestial 
worlds. 

§  11.    CONTINUATION. 

A  sense  of  the  unsatisfactory  character  of  this  line  of  reason- 
ing has  led  some  wholly  to  abandon  it,  and  to  maintain  that  not 
the  poverty  and  meanness,  but  the  glory  and  dignity  of  our  earth, 
had  been  the  cause  of  its  selection  to  become  the  scene  of  this 
unique  manifestation  of  the  Deity.  On  account  of  this  peculiar 
glory — it  is  maintained — and  not  from  any  accident,  the  fall 
had  taken  place  upon  our  earth  ;  while  all  the  other  worlds  are 
now  passing  through  a  process  designed  to  bring  them  to  the 
same  degree  of  cosmical  perfectness  which,  notwithstanding  the 
fall,  is  already  enjoyed  by  our  earth.  We  may  here  cite  the 
words  of  Stefens,  an  eminent  philosopher  (with  whom  also 
Hegel  in  substance  agrees)  :  "  The  recent  discoveries  of  double 
and  nebulous  stars — he  says — clearly  show  that  the  universe,  as 
a  whole,  is  beginning  to  assume  a  historical  character.  It  is 
daily  becoming  more  probable  that  these  stars  represent  grada- 
tions towards  the  perfect  development  of  our  oivn  planetary 
system.  It  is  of  importance  both  for  Christianity  and  for 
philosophy  to  maintain  that  our  planetary  system,  nay,  our 
earth,  forms  the  centre  of  the  universe.  .  .  .  But  thus  much 
we  may  assert,  that  astromony  is  fast  advancing  towards  the  con- 
clusion, that  our  planetary  system  is  to  he  regarded  as  the  most 
organised  point  in  the  universe,  and  the  time  may  not  be  far 
distant  when  our  earth  shall  also  be  recognised,  not  indeed  as  to 
appearance,  but  as  inwardly  and  really,  the  central  point  of  the 
planetary  system,  just  as  man  is  the  centre  of  the  whole 
organism.  .  .  .  The  sacred  place  where  the  Lord  appeared 
will  be  recognised  as  being  the  absolute  centre  of  the  universe. 
The  phantastic  aberration  which  transported  souls  to  distant 
stars,  or  prepared  on  Syrius  a  new  paradise,  while  some  ima- 
gined that  each  of  the  stars  had  its  own  history  similar  to  that 
of  man,  will  be  for  ever  discarded." 


§  11.    THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.         IxXXvii 

We  confess  that  we  cannot  adopt  these  views.  However,  un- 
satisfactory the  discoveries  of  astronomy  in  reference  to  the  fixed 
stars,  they  still  imi^ress  us  with  the  feeling  that  those  upper 
celestial  regions  are  not  inferior  and  undeveloped,  but  higher 
and  purer  stages  of  cosmical  formation.  Still  it  is  impossible  to 
designate  the  speculations  of  Steffens  as  entirely  groundless — 
especially  if  we  bear  in  mind  the  change  that  has  come  over  our 
ideas,  for  example,  concerning  the  moon.  What  at  one  time 
used  to  be  extolled  as  the  peaceable  abode  of  bliss  has,  by  the 
aid  of  the  telescope,  been  now  discovered  to  be  a  dreary  and 
horrible  waste.  Science  has  indeed  made  it  highly  probable 
that  our  own  planetary  system  is  something  unique,  to  which 
the  other  celestial  worlds  bear  no  analogy.  But  this  may  be 
viewed  either  as  proving  the  superiority  or  as  establishing  the 
inferiority  of  our  system — according  as  men  regard  the  subject. 
Some  consider  the  separation  of  the  poles  to  be  an  evidence  of 
perfectness  ;  and  in  proof,  appeal  to  the  organic  world,  where  the 
most  perfect  formations  exhibit  this  separation  of  opposite  (for 
example,  of  sexual)  poles.  Others  again  see  in  this  antagonism 
merely  contest  and  disunion,  while  they  look  for  harmony,  for  true 
and  perfect  life,  only  in  the  union  of  these  antagonistic  poles. 
Again,  if  starting  from  our  system  as  occupying  nearly  the 
central  place  in  the  starry  lieavens,  we  find  that  gradually  the 
formations  assume  a  difierent  character — first  isolated  then 
connected  or  double  stars,  and  these  again  forming  a  transition 
to  the  more  distant  multiple  or  groups  of  stars,  it  is  once  more 
felt  impossible  to  derive  from  this  circumstance  any  reliable 
conclusion.  Some  may  regard  this  isolation  as  indicative  of  a 
richness  and  fulness  which  requires  not  any  help  or  supply  from 
without,  while  others  may  set  it  down  to  the  absence  of  love  and 
harmony. 

The  view  that  our  earth,  although  to  appearance  one  of  the 
most  insignificant  parts  of  the  universe,  may  really,  and  as  to  its 
spiritual  significance,  be  the  centre  of  the  imiverse,  is  so  far  sup- 
ported by  Scripture.  All  throughout  the  moral  and  religious 
world,  the  Bible  points  out  a  fundamental  contrast  between  ap- 
pearance and  idea,  of  which  the  removal  forms  the  goal  of  all 
history.  Hence  tliis  incongruity  in  the  cosmical  world  would 
only  be  a  reflection  of  that  which  obtains  in  the  spiritual  world. 


Ixxxviii  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

There  is  an  amount  of  truth  in  this  reasoning.  The  astronomer 
is  warranted  in  drawing  from  his  investigations  the  conclusion 
that  our  earth  is  a  subordinate  member  of  our  ]3lanetary  system, 
and  that  the  latter  is  the  smallest  of  all  cosmical  systems.  But 
then  the  astronomers  measure  greatness  and  glory  by  a  stan- 
dard different  from  that  adopted  by  the  theologian.  Man 
judges  according  to  the  outward  appearance,  but  God  looketh 
on  the  heart ;  and  this  latter  is  the  standard  which,  guided  by 
revelation,  the  theologian,  nay,  which  every  Christian,  be  he 
astronomer  or  not,  should  adopt.  The  astronomer  observes 
and  watches  the  outward  appearance,  and  in  calmly  and  im- 
partially pursuing  his  observations,  he  is  warranted  in  assigning 
a  subordinate  position  both  to  our  planet  and  to  our  planetary 
system.  Nor  will  the  divine  find  this  conclusion  of  astronomy 
either  surprising  or  difficult  to  receive.  He  is  accustomed  to 
judge  of  an  outward  appearance  by  its  inward  and  hidden  bear- 
ing, to  discover  majesty  under  the  form  of  humility,  and  glory 
in  abasement ;  he  knows  that  this  incongruity  of  appearance 
and  idea  everywhere  recurs.  The  statements  of  astronomers 
will  therefore  in  this  respect  only  appear  to  liim  as  confirming 
a  truth,  the  deep  reality  of  which  he  has  learned  to  know  and  to 
understand. 

Still  we  can  also  admit  the  correctness  of  Stefens'  views, 
although  with  considerable  modifications.  Above  all,  we  must 
protest  against  the  idea  as  if  this  central  position  and  impor- 
tance of  the  earth  which  at  present  seems  concealed,  were  not  at 
some  future  period  to  become  manifest.  The  contrast  between 
appearance  and  idea  is  only  relatively,  not  absolutely  necessary, 
and  therefore  transient,  not  permanent.  As  in  the  moral  world, 
Christianity  ever  seeks  to  find  an  adequate  manifestation  of  faith 
by  works,  so  also  all  biblical  predictions  of  future  perfectness 
tend  to  show  that  it  will  consist  in  bringing  hidden  things  to 
light,  in  making  outward  appearance  correspond  with  inward 
reality.  But  if  our  solar  system,  and  in  it  our  earth — despite 
all  observations  of  a  different  natm-e — is  the  highest  point  in 
creation,  where  the  Lord  has  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  servant, 
and  to  which  He  is  again  to  return  in  glory,  in  order  to  render 
the  place  of  His  humiliation  the  scene  of  his  eternal  Majesty — it 
must  contain  indications  not  only  of  a  capacity  for  this  the 


§  12.  THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.  Ixxxix 

highest  stage  of  development,  but  also  that  in  greater  or  less 
degree  it  has  already  advanced  towards  that  goal.  If  our  earth 
really 'is  the  most  precious  germ  in  creation,  it  must  also  contain 
the  rudiment  of  its  future  blossom  and  fruit.  We  agree  with 
Steffens,  that  in  a  cosmical  point  of  view  our  earth,  and  in  a  moral 
and  religious  point  of  view,  man,  its  inhabitant,  have  attained  their 
prominence  not  fortuitously,  but  in  virtue  of  a  special  designa- 
tion and  adaptation.  On  the  other  hand,  we  differ  from  this 
philosopher  in  assigning  to  the  other  celestial  bodies  distinctions 
peculiar  to  them.  We  arrive  at  the  former  of  these  conclusions 
on  theological,  at  the  latter  on  astronomical,  grounds.  Steffens 
and  Hegel  may  be  right  in  inferring  that  the  peculiar  and  exten- 
sive connection  and  relation  of  our  solar  system,  the  sohd  and 
concrete  forms  of  the  bodies  of  which  it  is  composed,  and  per- 
haps other  and  less  marked  distinctive  physical  characteristics, 
are  evidence  of  the  unique  and  higher  destiny  of  our  system.  Still , 
even  if  those  characteristics  are  regarded  as  marks  of  distinction, 
it  must  also  be  admitted  that  defects  and  incumbrances  attach 
to  them  to  which  the  worlds  of  fixed  stars  are  not  subject.  But 
although  we  were  to  adopt  the  arguments  of  Steffens  to  a  much 
fuller  extent  than  we  are  prepai'ed  to  do,  they  could  scarcely  set 
aside  all  the  objections  and  doubts  which,  from  an  astronomical 
point  of  view,  may  be  urged  against  the  occurrence  of  the  Incar- 
nation upon  our  earth.  The  main  difficulty  lies  not  in  this 
whether  the  earth  had  greatest  claim  to  this  distinction,  but 
rather  whether  it  had  exclusive  claim  to  it.  We  have  to  show 
that  the  other  worlds  either  required  not,  or  were  not  capable  of 
such  an  Incarnation  of  the  Deity,  and  we  have  to  enquire  whether 
this  Incarnation  upon  our  earth  stood  in  necessary  relationship 
to  the  life  and  history  of  the  personal  beings  who  may  inhabit 
the  other  worlds. 


§  12.    CONTINUATION. 

To  obviate  the  difficulties  to  which  we  have  adverted,  it  has 
been  asserted  that  astronomy  and  philosophy  equally  demand 
that  we  should  believe  in  an  Incarnation  of  the  Deity  in  otlier 
worlds,  analogous  to  that  which  has  taken  place  upon  eartli. 


XC  THE  BIBLE  AJSfD  ASTXiONOJirY. 

This  view — deemed  by  some  to  be  compatible  with  the  Bible — 
is  based  upon  another  theory  which  had  been  advocated  by  some 
during  the  middle  ages,  but  was  discarded  by  the  Eeformers  and 
their  successors,  and  has  of  late  been  again  brought  forward.^ 
It  is  to  the  effect  that  the  incarnation  of  God  was  not  occasioned 
by  the  entrance  of  sin,  but  was  necessary  if  mankind  was  ever  to 
attain  its  goal,  and  indeed  was  implied  in  creation.  Even  if 
man  had  not  sinned,  God  would  have  become  incarnate,  but  in 
that  case  in  glory  and  majesty,  not  in  humility  and  in  the  form 
of  a  servant — not  to  suffer  and  to  die  for  man,  but  by  combining 
in  the  person  of  the  God-man  the  Divine  and  human  natures,  to 
fill  up  the  gap  between  God  and  man,  to  elevate  the  creature  to 
the  rank  of  Sonship,  to  make  men  heirs  of  God,  fellowheirs  with 
Christ  (Kom.  viii.  17),  and  partakers  of  the  Di\'ine  natm'e  (2 
Pet.  i.  4),  so  that  they  might  be  like  God  (1  John  iii.  2).  If  this 
view  were  correct,  we  could  scarcely  avoid  the  conclusion  that 
God  has  become  incarnate  not  only  among  men,  but  also  among 
angels,  not  only  upon  our  earth  but  also  in  aU  other  habitations 
of  created  spirits.  But  a  closer  examination  will  convince  us 
that  this  theory  runs  counter  both  to  sound  speculation  and  to 
the  statements  of  Scripture. 

The  last  and  highest  aim  in  the  development  and  history  of 
the  creature,  is  "  that  God  may  be  all  in  all ;"  that  without  losing 
its  individuality  or  separate  existence,  the  creature  should  return 
to  the  eternal  source  of  all  life  from  which  originally  it  had 
sprung  ;  that  the  dualism  implied  in  the  creation  of  free,  per- 
sonal beings,  and  which  manifests  itself  in  the  independent 
existence  of  a  free  will  besides  the  fi'ee  will  of  God,  should  give 
place  to  a  never-ending  unity,  without,  however,  destroying  the 
duality  wliich  presently  exists  ;  that,  in  this  consummation, 
movement  should  give  place  to  rest,  and  longing,  seeking  and 
striving,  to  satisfaction,  beatific  possession  and  enjoyment  ; 
lastly,  that  any  existing  antagonism  between  the  Divine  and 
human  Will  should  not  only  be  entirely  removed,  but  rendered 
impossible  for  the  future.  Now,  if  for  purposes  like  these  it  were 
absolutely  necessary  that  God  should  become  incarnate  wherever 
free  and  spiritual  beings  exist,  we  would  be  obliged  impUcitly  to 

I  It  has  been  defended  by  Liehncr,  Dorner,  Mnrteyisen,  J.  P.  Lange,  and 
otherH  ;  but  controverted  by  Thomasius,  Jul.  Muller,  and  others. 


'      §  12.  THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.  xci 

receive  the  above  theory.     But  it  will  be  seen  that  the  supposi- 
tion upon  which  it  proceeds  is  erroneous. 

We  admit  that  every  creature  is  designed  ultimately  to  return 
to  the  eternal  source  of  life  from  which  it  had  sprung  "  that  God 
may  be  all  in  all ;"  only  that  we  do  not  conceive  this  return  to 
imply  a  destruction  or  cessation  of  individuality.     The  latter 
continues,  and  that  in  highest  perfection,  even  after  the  return 
of  the  creature  to  God.     We  conceive  this  process  to  take  place 
in  the  following  manner.     By  an  act  of  the  creative  will,  God 
gave  separate  existence  to  all  His  creatures,  making  them  capable 
of  and  requiring  development.     The  idea  of  the  Divine  Creator 
was  not  exhausted  in  the  act  of  creation,  wliich  rather  bestowed 
capacity  and  tendency  than  full  development.     If  the  creature 
was  a  free,  spiritual,  and  personal  being,  it  was  destined  to  develop, 
by  its  own  act,  that  which  it  had  received  in  potency,  and  thus  to 
realise  its  destiny.     Again;  if  the  creature  was  not  endowed  with 
freedom,  it  was  to  attain  its  development  through  the  instinct 
given  to  it ;  in  wliich  case,  however,  that  being  to  which  it  was 
subordinate,  would  either  advance  or  impede  its  development. 
Thus  creation  established  a  duality  which,  however,  the  abuse  of 
personal  liberty  might  convert  into  a  hostile  dualism.      But  if 
the  creature  had  reached  its  goal  in  accordance  with  the  will  of 
God,  dualism  would  have  been  for  ever  prevented,  and  duahty  for 
ever  preserved,  and  thus  the  creature,  by  free  development,  have 
returned  to  God,  and  realised  the  idea  of  the  Creator.    We  beheve 
that  the  powers  originally  given  would,  if  rightly  employed,  have 
been  sufiicient  to  enable  each  creature  to  attain  its  proper  goal.    It 
is  otherwise  if  these  powers  are  abused,  and  if  instead  of  entering 
on  the  predestined  development,  the  creature  follows  an  opposite 
direction,  forsaking  the  Creator,  and  placing  itself  in  an  indepen- 
dent, and  hostile  attitude  towards  Him.     In  that  case,  the  moral 
chasm  which  would  ensue,  would  also  immediately  become  a 
physical  chasm,  since  the  bond  which  connected  the  divine  in 
man  with  its  eternal  source,  was  torn  asunder.      Such  a  chasm 
would  be  infinite  both  in  its  moral  and  in  its  physical  bearing, 
nor  could  the  creature  ever  fill  it  up  or  pass  it.     If  this  was  to 
be  done,  and  the  fallen  creature  brought  back  to  God,  and  to  its 
original  destiny,  it  could  only  be  accomplished  by  an  interposi- 
tion on  the  part  of  God  Himself,  who  would  have  to  condes- 


XCU  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTEONOMY. 

cend  to  it  in  order  to  save  it  from  destruction,  to  renew  and  to 
perfect  it.  The  ground  of  the  incarnation  of  God  was  only  the 
sin  of  man,  or  rather  the  divine  coimsel  of  grace  to  lead  man  to 
his  goal,  notwithstanding  his  fall  and  his  sin.  The  idea  that  the 
incarnation  was  absolutely  necessary  and  implied  in  creation,  rests 
upon  the  supposition  that  man  would  thereby  have  been  enabled 
to  attain  a  higher  goal  and  greater  glory  than  he  could  have 
attained  without  redemption,  and  hence  without  sin.  We  admit 
that  the  exalted  terms  in  which  Scripture  portrays  the  trans- 
cendant  glory  and  bliss  of  redeemed  man  might  readily  be  mis- 
understood as  giving  countenance  to  such  a  view.  But  it  is 
inconceivable  that  if  man  had  not  sinned,  but  remained  faithful 
to  his  destiny,  he  should  have  attained  a  much  lower  degree  of 
perfection,  glory,  and  blessedness,  than  that  which  is  held  out  to 
him  after  his  sin  and  rebellion.  In  such  case  we  should  deem 
ourselves  happy  to  have  become  sinfiers  and  rebels  ;  sin  would 
in  the  divine  counsel  have  been  a  necessary  means  of  realising 
this  purpose — nay,  sin  itself  would  be  the  first  and  greatest  of 
all  blessings.  An  Augustine  indeed  has  dared  to  utter  the  bold 
sentence :  "0  felix  culpa,  quae  talem  meruit  habere  redemp- 
torem,"  and  the  sentiment  has  been  re-echoed  by  many  Chris- 
tian poets.  We  would  not  absolutely  condemn  such  an  utter- 
ance of  deep  piety  on  the  part  of  one  who  certainly  did  not  deal 
lightly  with  sin.  But  paradoxes,  as  every  thing  else,  have  their 
proper  and  their  improper  time.  If  the  apostle  designated  the 
divine  wisdom  as  folly,  Augustine  might  perhaps  designate  sin, 
which  is  the  original  source  of  all  misery,  as  the  ground  of  bless- 
edness. There  are  seasons  of  deep  religious  emotion,  when  the 
simple  expressions  of  every-day  life  are  felt  to  be  insufficient — 
too  cold  and  too  poor  to  exhaust  the  depth  of  experience.  Then 
is  the  time  for  paradoxes  which  bring  out  the  poverty  of  the 
ordinary  modes  of  expression.  Like  every  paradox,  the  saying 
of  Augustine  expresses  a  truth,  but  in  a  manner  equally  one- 
sided and  exaggerated.  It  ignores  all  other  aspects  of  truth, 
being  entirely  directed  towards  one  great  consideration.  That 
which  I  as  a  sinner  have  obtained  through  redemption,  and 
could  not  have  obtained  otherwise,  may  in  certain  stages  of  ex- 
perience overcome  me  in  such  a  manner  as  for  the  moment  to 
lead  me  to  forget  everything  else — even  what  by  sin  I  have  lost, 


§  12.    THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.  xciii 

what  witliout  it  T  might  have  reached,  or  to  wliat  depth  I  have 
fallen.  But  if  I  elevate  into  a  scientific  principle  what  is  only 
relatively  true,  then  what  had  been  half  the  truth,  becomes 
wholly  erroneous,  and  the  hymn  of  praise  to  the  grace  of  God  is 
changed  into  a  slander  against  His  holiness.  Were  we  in  calm 
reflection  to  say,  "  God  be  praised  that  Adam  sinned,"  the  state- 
ment would  imply  :  "  God  be  praised  that  I  have  sinned,"  which 
were  simply  blasphemous. 

This  error  can  only  be  avoided  either  if  we  give  up  the  view 
that  in  redemption  a  higher  stage  was  to  be  attained  than  that 
open  to  unfallen  man,  or  else  if  we  assert  that  although  creation 
necessarily  implied  the  incarnation,  yet  its  peculiar  form  of  hu- 
miliation and  suffering  was  due  to  sin.  Scripture  alone  can 
decide  which  of  these  two  views  is  correct.  It  is  evident  and 
admitted  on  all  hands  that  whenever  Scripture  refers  to  the 
Incarnation,  it  always  points  to  sin  as  the  cause,  and  to  redemp- 
tion as  the  object  of  this  mystery  of  divine  love.  But  it  is  ob- 
jected that  Scripture  only  treats  of  the  actual  state  of  sinful 
man,  and  therefore  has  no  occasion  to  advert  to  what  would  have 
taken  place  if  man  had  not  fallen,  while  Christian  sj^eculation  is 
warranted  in  extending  this  horizon,  and  filling  up  the  biblical 
theory  on  this  point  in  accordance  with  principles  derived  from 
revelation.  Still  we  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  question 
under  consideration  is  one  which,  if  affirmed,  would  give  so  dif- 
ferent an  aspect  to  the  whole  doctrine  of  redemption,  that  if  it 
were  true,  Scripture  must  have  referred  to  it.  Its  silence 
on  this  point  must,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  decisive  that  the 
incarnation  was  only  occasioned  by  sin.  If  our  opponents  ap- 
peal to  the  circumstance  that  it  is  inconceivable  that  fallen  man 
should  attain  a  higher  stage  than  that  open  to  him  in  his  state 
of  innocence,  we  reply  that  tliis  idea  is,  as  we  shaU  immediately 
shew,  incorrect. 

However  incomprehensible  and  exalted  the  terms  in  which 
the  New  Testament  describes  the  blessedness  of  the  redeemed, 
they  imply  nothing  alien  to  or  different  from  man's  original 
destiny.  The  glory  of  his  original  state  and  that  of  his  state 
of  perfectness  are  related  as  germ  and  development,  as  destiny 
and  realisation.  The  latter  contains  nothing  which  w-as  not  to 
be  found  in  the  former,  in  germ  and  rudiment.     To  have  been 


XCIV  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

created  in  the  likeness  of  God  implied  the  right  of  sonship  and 
inheritance  (Rom.  viii.  17),  it  also  implied  that  man  had  already 
been  made  partaker  of  the  divine  nature  and  become  like  to  God 
(2  Pet.  i.  4  ;  1  John  iii.  2).  Sin  and  redemption  are  co-relative 
terms.  The  more  virulent  and  dangerous  the  disease,  the  more 
potent  must  be  the  medicine  which  is  to  remove  it.  The  more 
we  think  of  the  fearful  nature  of  sin,  the  higher  must  be  our 
views  of  the  importance  of  salvation,  and  vice  versa,  the  greater 
the  provision  which  God  has  made  for  the  redemption  of  sinners, 
the  deeper  must  have  been  the  degradation  into  which  by  sin 
they  had  fallen.  But  the  gospel  teaches  us  to  regard  both  as 
equally  great,  while  according  to  the  view  of  our  opponents  the 
consequences  of  sin,  and  with  them  the  value  of  redemption,  are 
lowered,  since  not  the  incarnation  but  only  its  special  form  is 
traceable  to  sin.  That  God  became  man  is  in  itself  the  greatest 
humiliation,  and  yet  this  adorable  mystery  of  divine  love  is  not 
to  stand  in  any  connection  with  sin ;  only  the  comparatively 
smaller  fact  that  that  man  in  Avhom  God  would  at  any  rate  have 
become  incarnate  had  undergone  sufferings  and  death,  is  due  to 
sin  !  And  what  is  even  more  dangerous,  redemption  ceases  to 
be  a  free  act  of  divine  pity,  and  is  represented  as  a  necessity 
implied  in  creation,  which  would  have  taken  place  whether  man 
had  remained  obedient  or  not.  Thus  sin  is  not  the  sole  cause  of 
man's  present  state,  since  the  position  which  he  originally  held 
required  an  incarnation  of  the  Deity  before  man  could  attain 
perfectness.  In  another  respect  also  sin  loses  its  importance, 
since  even  without  it  the  incarnation  would  have  taken  place. 
The  latter,  indeed,  would  still  remain  an  adorable  mystery  of 
love,  hut  not  so  redemption,  which  would  be  implied  in  the  decree 
of  the  incarnation,  and  could  no  longer  be  regarded  as  proceed- 
ing solely  from  divine  pity  and  mercy  toward  fallen  man. 

Thus  much  then  we  infer  that  the  incarnation  was  devised  by 
the  free  grace  of  God  in  order  to  remove' sin  and  its  consequences, 
and  that  it  would  not  have  been  requisite  if  sin  had  not  exer- 
cised its  destructive  sway.  We  return  now  to  the  question 
whether  the  idea  of  an  incarnation  on  other  worlds,  inhabited 
by  rational  beings,  is  either  necessary  or  even  admissible.  This 
we  deny,  since  neither  the  Bible  nor  sound  reasoning  give 
countenance  to  it.     Those  worlds  whose  inhabitants  have  re- 


§  13.    THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHltlST.  XCV 

mained  sinless,  required  it  not,  since  every  creature  possesses 
the  means  of  attaining,  in  its  own  way,  the  great  goal,  "  that 
God  should  be  all  in  all."  It  is  certainly  otherwise  if  any 
of  the  inhabitants  of  other  worlds  have  ftillen  ;  but  in  that  case 
we  should,  before  replying  to  the  question,  require  to  know 
whether  these  beings  are  capable  of  redemption.  On  all  these 
points  human  science  gives  no  information.  The  Bible  speaks 
only  of  two  kinds  of  spiritual  beings — angels  and  men.  It 
informs  us,  indeed,  that  a  portion  of  the  angels  had  fallen,  but 
it  also  teaches  that  they  are  incapable  of  redemption.  We  must, 
therefore,  close  these  enquiries  with  the  conviction  that  an  in- 
carnation had  only  taken  place  upon  the  earth,  and  that  the 
inhabitants  of  other  worlds  either  required  not  redemption,  or 
else  were  incapable  of  it.  In  either  case  there  was  no  room  for 
such  a  manifestation  of  the  Deity. 


§  13.    CONTINUATION. 

It  was  the  object  of  the  incarnation  to  restore  fallen  man  to 
communion  with  God,  and  to  lead  him  to  that  goal  for  which 
he  was  destined,  by  being  created  in  the  image  of  God.  The 
aim  of  redemption  was  the  same  as  that  of  creation,  but  it 
required  a  much  higher  species  of  divine  manifestation,  and  an 
infinitely  greater  condescension  on  the  part  of  God,  than  did  the 
creation.  For  in  creation  only  a  commencement  was  made,  and 
a  capability  bestowed  for  attaining  by  personal  development  the 
goal.  But  through  sin  this  beginning  was  arrested,  this  capa- 
bility destroyed,  and  man  sunk  to  a  depth  of  misery  from  which 
no  created  power  could  deliver  him.  Hence  the  object  of  redemp- 
tion was  much  higher,  implying  as  it  did,  not  merely  the  bestowal 
of  something  new,  but  the  removal  of  the  old ;  not  merely  a 
restoration  of  what  had  been  lost,  but  also  the  bringing  about  of 
what  had  not  yet  been  attained. 

The  question  as  to  the  relation  which  the  incarnation  upon 
earth  bears  to  the  spiritual  inhabitants  of  other  worlds  coincides, 
therefore,  with  that  as  to  the  relation  between  the  creation  of 
man  and  that  of  these  spiritual  beings.  The  creation  of  man 
in  the  image  of  God  implied  not  that  these  other  spiritual 


XCVl  THE  BIBLE  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

beings  were  either  neglected  or  set  aside,  nor  does  the  incar- 
nation imply  any  such  thing.  That  man  was  from  the  first 
destined  for  higher  purposes  than  they,  and  that  this  object 
was  attained  through  Divine  grace  despite  sin,  could  in  nowise 
be  a  disadvantage  to  them.  Indeed  the  opposite  of  this  is  the 
case.  The  fall  and  rebellion  of  part  of  the  angels  had  intro- 
duced a  schism  into  the  worlds  of  other  spiritual  beings  ;  it 
had  destroyed  the  harmony  of  the  universe.  To  restore  it  man 
was  created,  and,  when  he  fell,  redeemed,  because  he  was  capable 
of  redemption.  Hence  the  Incarnation  upon  earth  was  of  advan- 
tage to  the  entire  universe.  If  it  is  lawful  to  regard  man  as  the 
microcosm,  i.e.,  as  the  representative  of  every  creatm^e,  and  the 
being  who  in  himself  combines  all  substances,  potencies,  and 
capabilities  of  body  and  soul  which  are  scattered  throughout 
the  universe,  we  can  also  conceive  how  God  when  He  assumed 
the  nature  of  man  had  thereby  also  in  a  certain  sense  taken 
upon  Himself  the  nature  of  all  other  creatures.  It  cannot  be 
doubted  that  man  is  the  microcosm  of  the  terrestrial  world, 
but  whether  he  may  also  be  regarded  as  that  of  the  universe  is 
a  question  on  which  empirical  science  and  experience  cannot 
decide.  Three  elements,  all  connected  with  revelation,  may  help 
us  to  settle  this  question,  viz.,  a  consideration  of  the  original 
destiny  of  man — of  the  fulness  of  restoration  as  exhibited  in  the 
exalted  God-man — and  lastly,  of  the  fulness  whicli  proceeding 
from  the  exalted  God-man  shall  be  imparted  to  all  His  people, 
i.e.,  to  those  who  have  been  born  of  Him  and  regenerated  to  a 
new  life  and  a  new  development.  With  reference  to  the  first 
of  these  points,  the  Bible  clearly  teaches  that  the  earth  was 
created  last  of  all  worlds  and  man  last  of  all  personal  beings. 
When  man,  the  crown  and  seal  of  terrestrial  creation,  had  been 
called  forth,  God  had  finished  all  the  works  of  creation,  and  that 
rest  of  God  commenced  which  indicates  the  absolute  cessation 
of  creative  activity.  Thus  earth  and  man  are  the  culminating 
points  in  the  scale  of  creation,  the  close  and  consummation  of 
the  idea  of  the  creator.  This  view  is  further  borne  out  by  what 
we  have  endeavoured  formerly  to  establish,  viz.,  that  by  the  fall 
of  angels  our  earth  was  changed  into  a  waste  chaos  which  had 
been  removed  to  afford  a  dwelling  for  him  who  was  destined  to 
restore  the  lost  harmony  of  the  universe. 


§  13.    THE  INCARNATION  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.  XCVli 

Again,  if  we  think  of  the  fulness  as  exhibited  in  the  God- 
man,  we  gather  from  the  New  Testament  that  He  in  whom 
hmnan  nature  was  exhibited  in  its  perfection  was,  after  the 
completion  of  His  work  on  earth,  exalted  above  every  creature 
in  heaven  and  upon  earth,  so  that  He  sustains,  preserves,  and 
fills  all  things.      But  this  exaltation  is  not  only  that  of  His 
^  divine  but  also  of  His  human  nature,  nay,  strictly  speaking,  it  is 
only  that  of  the  latter  since  as  God  He  already  possessed  this 
exalted  position.     Compare  Phil.  ii.  7 — 11 ;  Eph.  i.  20 — 23 ; 
Eph.  i.  10,  where  we  are  told  that  the  pm-pose  of  God  consisted 
in  this :  "  That  He  might  gather  together  in  one  all  things  in 
Christ  (the  God-man),  both  which  are  in  heaven  and  which  are 
on  earth,  even  in  Him  in  whom  we  also  have  obtained  an  inheri- 
tance."    In  all  these  passages  the  view  that  by  redemption  man 
was  to  regain  liis  original  destiny  and  to  become  the  microcosm 
of  the  univei'se,  receives  express  confirmation.      Manifestly  they 
represent  the  man  Jesus  as  such  a  microcosm.     But  what  holds 
good  of  Him  holds  good  also  of  those  whom  He  has  redeemed. 
For  the  essence  of  redemption — in  its  positive  aspect — consisted 
in  this,  that  Christ,  as  the  Son  of  man,  as  the  representative  and 
architype  of  humanity,  and  as  the  second  Adam,  embodied  the 
idea  of  humanity  in  all  its  completeness;  and  that  primarily  in  His 
own  person,  in  order  as  head  of  the  body  of  wliich  by  Incarna- 
tion He  became  a  member,  to  make  us  partakers  of  His  triumph 
even  as  He  became  partaker  of  our  hmniliation.     Besides,  the 
church,  w^hich  is  his  body,  is  expressly  called  the  "  the  fulness  of 
Him  that  filleth  all  in  all."     He,  the  head,  filleth  aU  in  all,  and 
the  church  His  body  is  His  fulness  with  which  and  by  which 
He  filleth  all  in  all. 

Lastly,  the  Biblical  doctrine  concerning  the  end  of  the  world 
is  in  favour  of  om'  view.  According  to  Scripture,  the  close  of 
the  development  of  our  world  will  also  be  that  in  all  other 
w^orlds,  the  judgment  of  man  coincides  with  that  of  every  other 
creature,  and  the  destruction  and  renovation  of  our  earth  is  con- 
nected with  the  renovation  of  the  heavens.  We  do  not  read 
that  tliis  simultaneous  end  of  the  world  is  to  be  brought  about 
by  any  extramundane  event  unconnected  with  the  earth.  On 
the  contrary,  the  consummation  of  these  worlds  and  their  inha- 
bitants is  only  delayed  because  one  cannot  be  made  perfect 

9 


XCviii  ASTRONOMY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

without  the  other,  and  because  the  consummation  consists  in 
this,  that  all  things  shall  be  gathered  together  in  one  that  God 
may  be  all  in  all  (Heb.  xi.  40 ;  Eph.  i.  10  ;  1  Cor.  xv.  28). 


§  14.  THE  CATASTBOPHE  OF  THE  END  OF  THE  WOBLD. 

It  only  remains  for  us  to  shew  that  the  Biblical  doctrine  con- 
cerning the  end  of  the  world  is  not  incompatible  witli  tlie  re- 
sults of  astronomical  investigation.  According  to  the  Scriptures 
the  whole  fabric  of  the  world  (not  merely  the  earth)  awaits  a 
catastrophe  by  which  it  is  to  be  changed  and  renewed  even  as  an 
old  garment  is  cast  off  and  its  place  supplied  by  a  new.  So 
far  as  astronomy  is  capable  of  pronouncing  on  this  subject  it 
would  appear  that  our  solar  system,  and  also  the  fixed  stars, 
bear  the  characteristics  of  immovable  harmony  and  order,  since 
no  forces  or  accidents  have  ever  been  discovered  by  which  the  pre- 
sent order  might  be  destroyed  or  endangered,  while  all  apparent 
disturbances  in  the  celestial  bodies  are  so  nicely  adjusted  that 
instead  of  threatening  future  destruction,  they  seem  rather  to 
insure  the  continuance  of  the  present  arrangement.  It  is  urged, 
therefore,  that  the  Biblical  theory  concerning  the  end  of  the 
world  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  inferences  of  astronomy. 
Perhaps  the  best  answer  to  this  is  found  in  the  passages  where 
this  future  destruction  is  most  plainly  taught.  In  2  Pet.  iii.  4, 
the  following  answer  is  returned  to  those  who  say :  "  Where  is 
the  promise  of  His  coming  ?  for  since  the  fathers  feU  asleep  all 
things  continue  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation  : 
— This  they  are  willingly  ignorant  of,  that  by  the  word  of  God 
the  heavens  were  of  old  and  the  earth  standing  out  of  the  water 
and  in  the  water  ;  whereby  the  world  that  then  was,  being  over- 
flowed with  water,  perished.  But  the  heavens  and  the  earth 
which  are  now,  hy  the  same  word  are  kept  in  store,  reserved 
unto  fire,"  &c.  Allusion  is  here  made  to  an  analogous  event 
which  may  be  regarded  as  a  type  or  prelude  of  that  more  gene- 
ral and  fearful  final  catastrophe.  The  relations  between  sea  and 
land,  between  the  consumption  and  the  production  of  water,  is 
so  stable  and  settled,  that  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  have 
anticipated  such  a  catastrophe  as  the  flood,  and  yet  it  broke  in 


§   14.    THE  CATASTKOPHE  OF  THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD.       Xcix 

when  least  expected.     "  And  as  tlie  days  of  Noah  were,  so  shall 
also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  he."    As  formerly  the  de- 
stroying flood  broke  from  the  lowest  depths  of  earth  into  wliich 
human  investigation  had  not  penetrated,  and  from  those  high 
regions  where  clouds  form  according  to  a  law,  which  human  in- 
genuity has  not  discovered,  so  the  heights  and  depths  of  the  uni- 
verse may  conceal  forces  which  shall  hurst  forth  at  the  command 
of  the  Creator,  and  transform  the  heavens  and  the  earth.     As  to 
the  manner  in  which  this  catastrophe  shall  take  place,  Scripture 
informs  us  that  "  the  heavens  shall  pass  away  with  agreed  noise, 
and  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat :  the  earth  also 
and  the  works  that  are  therein,  shall  be  burnt  up.     Neverthe- 
less, we,  according  to  His  promise,  look  for  new  heavens  and  a 
new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness  "  (2  Pet.  iii.  10 — 13), 
Among  all  the  elements  known  to  us,  fire  is  the  most  powerful, 
pervading,  and  destructive.     But  by  destroying  that  which  is 
perishable,  and  separating  the  i)ure  metal  from  the  dross,  it  also 
sets  free  that  which  is  imperishable  and  noble,  and  presents  it  in 
all  its  purity  and  beauty.     Hence  fire  has  always  been  regarded 
not  only  as  the  symbol  of  destruction,  but  equally  as  the  type  of 
the  most  thorough  purification  and  sanctification.     If,  therefore, 
the  catastrophe  to  which  we  have  alluded  was  to  issue  in  purifica- 
tion and  renovation,  as  well  as  in  destruction,  it  is  evident  that 
of  all  means  known  to  us,  fire  would  be  the  most  appropriate. 
Besides,. it  lies  hidden  in  all  bodies,  and  may  be  called  forth  by 
mechanical  and  dynamic  means.      An  unextinguished  furnace 
burns  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  ;  fire  breaks  from  the  clouds 
of  heaven  ;  fire  is  called  forth  by  the  influence  of  the  sun  ;  and 
that   mysterious   electricity   which   apparently  pervades   every 
region,  involves  an  untold  fidness  and  intensity  of  powers  for 
eliciting  fire.     Nor  is  astronomy  competent  to  pronounce  any 
verdict  on  those  fearful  signs  which  are  said  to  proceed  or  ac- 
company the  final  catastrophe, — such  as  that  sun  and  moon 
shall  loose  their  fight,  that  stars  shall  fall  from  the  firmament, 
and  the  sign  of  the  Son  of  man  be  seen  in  the  heavens.     Year 
by  year  we  witness  echpses  of  the  sun  and  moon.     Strange  ap- 
pearances in  the  heavens,  such  as  the  advent  of  remarkable 
comets,  are  by  no  means  unheard  of     Stars  have  vanished  from 

2j7 


C  ASTRONOMY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

the  heavens  under  the  eye  of  the  astronomer,  and  repeatedly 
have  we  seen  thousands  of  asteroids  falHng  from  the  heavens,  &c. 
We  would  not  mdeed  assert  that  the  darkening  of  sun  and 
moon  in  that  great  day  will  be  nothing  more  than  an  ordinary 
eclipse,  or  the  sign  of  the  Son  of  man  the  same  as  the  appear- 
ance of  a  comet  or  the  falling  of  stars  from  the  heavens,  a  mere 
shower  of  shooting  stars.  On  the  contrary,  we  believe  that  such 
predictions  refer  to  something  heretofore  unseen  and  unheard. 
Still,  these  facts  of  experience  are  a  testimony  in  favour  of  the 
possibility  of  appearances  such  as  those  predicted. 

§  15.  DURATION  OF  THE  PRESENT  COURSE  OF  THE  EARTH. 

Our  earth  must  revolve  eighteen  million  times  around  the  sun 
before  the  sun  itself  and  its  entire  system  completes  a  single 
revolution  in  that  movement  in  which  it  is  involved  along  with 
the  other  fixed  stars  about  the  throne  of  cosmical  powers  which 
lies  in  the  centre  of  the  system  of  the  milky  way.  According  to 
Mddler,  one  great  year  of  the  universe  therefore  comprehends 
eighteen  millions  of  terrestrial  years.  How  insignificant  in  this 
respect  appears  our  earth  ;  how  paltry  compared  with  that  sweep 
of  time  is  the  period  during  which  our  present  earth  and  its 
inhabitants  have  existed  !  What  are  6000  years  compared  with 
18,000,000  of  years  !  According  to  the  Scriptures  the  present 
order  of  things  have  existed  for  nearly  6000  years.  How  long  is 
it  to  continue  till  the  great  day  when  heaven  and  earth  shall  be 
changed,  and  a  new  and  never  ending  period  commence  ?  On 
this  subject  we  are  told  that  "  to  know  the  times  or  the  seasons 
the  Father  has  put  in  His  own  power.  Of  that  day  and  that 
hour  knoweth  no  man,  no  not  the  angels  which  are  in  heaven." 
(Mark  xiii.  32,  33  ;  Acts  i.  7). 

The  Apostles,  and  with  them  believers  of  every  age,  have 
regarded  that  day  as  at  hand,  an  expectation  this,  prompted  not 
so  much  by  objective  prophecy  as  by  the  subjective  state  of  the 
soul,  its  longings  and  desires.  Centuries  have  since  passed,  and 
may  still  pass,  before  that  expectation  shall  be  reahsed.  And 
yet,  reasoning  from  Scripture,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive 
that  "  the  end"  should  be  so  long  delayed.      If  we  think  of  the 


§  16.    THE  COSMICAL  CONSUMMATION.  ci 

Incarnation  as  taking  place  in  the  middle  age  of  the  world,  if  we 
consider  the  increasing  distinctness  in  the  signs  of  the  times,  and 
the  approach  of  those  signs  and  harbingers  of  the  end,  we  cannot 
but  feel  that  the  termination  of  the  present  dispensation  must 
be  at  hand.  Are  the  heavens,  then,  to  be  changed  like  an  old 
garment  before  they  have  reached  a  single  year  of  their  existence, 
or  completed  a  single  revolution  ?  The  query  proceeds  upon  a 
twofold  misunderstanding. — We  have  already  seen  that  the 
6000  years  of  Biblical  chronology  refer  not  to  the  beginning  of 
the  whole  universe,  nor  even  to  that  of  the  earth,  but  only  to  its 
restoration,  or  rather  to  the  creation  of  man.  But  between  the 
first  creation  and  this  new  creation  an  indeterminable  period 
intervenes.  Besides,  in  those  future  ages  of  the  world,  of  which 
the  judgment  forms  the  commencement,  time  shall  not  cease. 
The  creature  is  not  to  cease  to  be  creature,  but  only  to  partici- 
pate in  the  fulness  of  divine  glory  ;  neither  is  time  to  terminate, 
but  only  to  be  absorbed  in  eternity.  But  if  time  do  not  cease, 
neither  can  the  movements  and  revolutions  of  the  worlds  which 
mark  tinie  come  to  an  end.  The  heavens  shall  be  purified  and 
perfected  by  the  final  catastrophe,  but  not  annihilated ;  only  in 
proportion  as  the  heavens  have  been  affected  by  that  ruin  which 
is  to  be  eliminated  in  the  purifying  fires  of  the  last  judgment, 
shall  their  present  condition  be  altered. 


§  16.    THE  COSMICAL   CONSUMMATIOIt. 

At  length  the  full  dignity  of  earth  and  its  inhabitants  shall  be 
openly  manifested.  The  misery  which  the  twofold  fall  of  angels 
and  men  has  caused  shall  be  removed  from  the  earth,  wliicli,  in 
the  fullest  sense,  shall  attain  both  its  original  destiny  and  that 
position  which  it  was  intended  to  hold  when  restored  to  becomo 
the  habitation  of  man.  Above  we  have  remarked  that  the  celes- 
tial worlds  which  are  the  abode  of  the  holy  angels  present  certain 
cosmical  advantages  as  compared  with  our  earth  in  its  present 
state,  while  on  the  other  hand  our  earth  also  has  distinguishing- 
features,  which,  however,  are  yet  undeveloped  germs,  concealed 
in  the  form  of  lowliness,  and  distorted  through  the  curse  of  sin. 
We  anticipate  that  these  features  will  at  last  fully  appear,  while 


Cll  ASTRONOMY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

our  earth  will  after  its  own  manner  also  reach  the  same  level  as 
the  angelic  worlds.  We  expect  that  in  those  times  what  at 
present  appear  as  hostile  contrasts  shall  combine  and  co-operate  ; 
that  sin  and  death — and  with  them  all  their  shadows  and  fruits 
— shall  have  passed  away,  and  that  the  members  of  our  solar  sys- 
tem which  at  present  are  isolated  shall  be  united  by  bonds  of 
harmony,  communion,  sympathy,  and  love.  Perhaps  this  will 
be  realised  in  a  manner  analogous  to  what  we  witness  in  the 
heavens  ;  perhaps  those  worlds  which,  although  now  separated, 
are  so  closely  related,  shall  move  in  sacred  harmony ;  perhaps 
they  shall  stand  in  immediate  communication  with  one  another ; 
perhaps  the  sea  of  ether  belonging  to  our  system,  which  at  pre- 
sent is  unilluminated,  shall  be  pervaded  with  light  and  afford 
an  "  eternal  sunshine,"  uniting  worlds  as  now  it  separates  them, 
just  as  the  luminous  atmosphere  of  the  heavens  of  the  fixed  stars 
binds  together  the  worlds  that  move  in  it. 

But  the  distinguishing  excellency  of  our  earth  will  consist  in 
this,  that  ransomed  and  glorified  man,  created  in,  and  restored  to, 
the  image  of  God,  sliall  dwell  there,  and  that  here  the  Lord  of 
Glory,  who  to  all  eternity  has  taken  upon  Himself  their  nature, 
shall  make  His  abode  among  those  whom  He  is  not  ashamed  to 
call  brethren  ;  that  He  shall  bring  with  Him  upon  earth  that 
unfading  inheritance  of  His  Sonship  of  which  they  are  to  be 
fellow-heirs  ;  that  He  shall  establish  among  them  the  throne  of 
His  grace  and  power,  of  His  glory  and  majesty ;  and  that  He 
Himself,  the  ¥^ncreated  Light,  shall  shine  upon  them  with  a 
brilliancy  which  no  creature  has  yet  beheld.  But  as  to  the 
conditions  and  changes  which  all  this  implies  in  the  physical 
condition  of  the  earth  and  of  our  system,  and  in  their  cosmical 
relation  to  the  rest  of  the  universe,  it  becomes  us  in  silence  to 
await  the  arrangements  winch  the  great  Creator  shall  make. 

Our  earth  is  unique  in  its  jDresent  state  of  humiliation — ^it 
will  also  be  unique  in  its  future  exaltation.  As  man  is  made 
lower  than  tlie  angels  and  yet  is  "  the  embryo  of  the  highest  of 
all  creatui'es,"  so  our  earth  also  is  made  lower  than  the  celestial 
worlds  and  yet  "  the  noblest  germ  in  creation."  As  Judea  was 
the  least  and  most  despised  country  of  the  earth,  and  yet  "  the 
glorious  land"  (Deut.  xi.  16,  41)  ;  as  Bethlehem  was  least 
innong  the  thousands  of  Judah  (Micah  v.  2)  and  yet  tho  Son  of 


§  IG.    THE  COSMICAL  CONSUMMATION.  ciii 

Righteousness  arose  there  (Mai.  iv.  2),  so  our  solar  system  is 
the  Judea  of  the  universe,  and  our  insignificant  earth  the  Beth- 
lehem of  this  holy  land — poor  and  despised,  yet  precious  above 
all ;  as  in  that  prophetic  dream  sun,  moon,  and  stars  bent  in 
lowly  obeisance  before  Joseph,  who  yet  was  the  least  among  his 
brethren,  so  shall  they  also  make  obeisance  to  our  earth,  al- 
though it  is  the  smallest  world  in  the  universe.  When  at  first 
Jehovah  founded  the  earth,  the  morning  stars  looked  on  with 
songs  of  praise  ;  when  the  eternal  Word,  full  of  grace  and  truth, 
left  the  throne  of  glory  to  clothe  Himself  with  our  nature,  the 
hosts  of  heaven  burst  forth  into  this  hymn:  "  Glory  to  God  in 
the  highest,  arid  on  earth  2Jeace,  good  ivill  toivards  men."  Again 
when  the  Son  of  man  shall  return  in  the  clouds,  surrounded 
with  all  the  glory  of  His  eternal  Godhead,  to  renew  heaven  and 
earth  and  to  consummate  all  things,  shall  those  messengers  of 
His  power  and  goodness,  in  whose  presence  even  now  there  is 
joy  at  every  new  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  God  upon  earth 
(Luke  XV.  7),  behold  with  rapturous  delight  the  unfolding  of 
that  mystery  of  godliness,  into  which  they  now  desire  to  look, 
and  in  louder  tones  and  loftier  strains  shall  they  enchoir  their 
never-ending  Hallelujah  (Rev.  v,  12,  13). 


(     civ     ) 


CHAPTER   III. 

GEOLOGY   AND   THE   BIBLE- 

§  1.    SURVEY  OF  THE  STATE  OF  GEOLOGICAL  SCIENCE. 

Geology  (or  rather  Geogony)  seeks,  from  the  present  state  of 
the  crust  of  the  earth,  from  the  structm:-e,  the  contents,  and  the 
combination  of  rocks,  and  their  present  mutual  relation,  to  infer 
the  manner  in  which  they  have  become  what  presently  they  are. 
The  difficulty  of  such  a  task  must  at  once  appear,  and  even  a 
cursory  glance  at  the  jiresent  state  of  geology  shews  that, 
although  it  has  been  cultivated  with  sj^ecial  and  unequalled 
zeal,  its  first  and  most  important  difiiculties  remain  as  yet  un- 
solved. Thus  the  very  first  subject  of  enquiry  as  to  the  original 
relationship  between  the  stratified  and  unstratified  formations^  is 

1  Generally  speaking,  we  distinguish  between  stratified  formations,  which 
are  arranged  in  parallel  sti'ata  one  above  another  according  to  a  definite 
order  which  everywhere  recurs,  yet  so  that  here  and  there  one  or  more  strata 
in  the  same  formations  are  awanting,  and  unstratified  (specially  crystalline) 
Jbrmations,  which,  without  any  regularity  in  situation  and  succession  lie 
beneath,  between,  and  above  the  stratified  formations,  having  apparently 
broken  into  the  latter  and  interposed  between  them.  More  especially  does 
granite  everywhere  occupy  the  highest  and  the  lowest  place,  and  forms  both 
the  trunk  and  the  top  in  the  principal  mountain  chains.  From  the  position  of 
unstratified  formations,  which  are  irregular  and  rise  upwards,  and  from  that  of 
stratified  formation  (which  depends  on  the  former)  which  commonly  incline 
towards  the  horizon,  all  individual  formations  of  the  latter  terminate  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  and  thence  extend  down  to  unexplored  depths.  Thus — 
since  the  same  strata  do  not  always  lie  uppermost — it  has  become  possible  to 
learn  their  succession  and  character.  In  themselves  the  rocks  of  the  strati- 
fied formations  are  simple,  but  everywhere  contain  traces  and  remains  of 
organic  products  and  life.  On  the  other  hand  the  unstratified  formations  do 
not  contain  any  traces  of  organic  remains,  and  consist  chiefly  of  various 
more  or  less  perfectly  chrystallized  minerals,  which,  instead  of  organic  petrifi- 
cations, contain  a  great  variety  of  the  most  beautiful  stones  and  metals.  The 
unstratified  formations  are  commonly  arranged  into  two  classes.  The 
chrystaUine  or  pi'imary  formations  (as  they  are  commonly  called)  appear  to 
constitute  the  firm  framework  of  the  earth.  Among  these  we  reckon  espe- 
cially the  granite.  What  are  cuMedi  t\\Q  transition  fiirmations  are  intermediate 
between  the  stratified  and  unstratified.  They  .'hare  the  peculiarities  of  both 
classes,  and  form  a  link  of  connection  between  them.  In  that  class  we 
reckon  gneiss,  mica  slate,  argilaceous  slate,  coal,  &c.    The  stratified  formations 


§  1.    SURVEY  OF  THE  STATE  OF  GEOLOGICAL  SCIENCE.  CV 

still  matter  of  investigation  and  controversy.  Have  they  been 
formed  simultaneously  or  successively  ?  Have  they  arisen  inde- 
pendently of  each  other,  or  has  the  formation  of  the  one  been 
caused  by  the  transformation  of  the  other — and  if  so,  have  the 
stratified  formations  originated  mechanically  by  the  decay  or  the 
destruction  of  the  unstratified,  or  the  latter  by  the  transforma- 
tion of  the  former?  These  questions  are  still  discussed  by 
geologists,  and  cannot  be  satisfactorily  answered  till  the  fun- 
damental enquiry,  wliether  water  or  fire  had  been  the  substratum 
or  the  agent  in  the  formation  of  the  earth,  shall  be  settled. 

By  far  the  greater  part  of  modern  geologists  maintain  that 
originally  the  earth  was  in  a  state  of  igneous  fusion,  that  more 
especially  the  crystalline  stones  owe  their  origin  to  igneous 
fusion  (Flufo7u'sm),  and  that  the  strata  afterwards  deposited  by 
aqueous  agency  were  repeatedly  broken  up  by  the  upheaving  of 
igneous  fluid  masses  (Vulcanism),  and  partly  changed  by  the 
influence  of  their  heat  (Metamorphism'). 

But  Neptunism,  which  for  a  time  seemed  wholly  conquered, 
has  recovered  from  its  defeat,  and  although  as  yet  only  repre- 
sented by  isolated  individuals,  has  reappeared  with  a  sufiiciently 
formidable  array  of  researches,  facts,  and  experiences  to  assert 
its  claims  with  energy  and  confidence  of  ultimate  and  certain 
victory.  True,  the  system  is  not  the  Neptunism  of  the  "  ancient 
regime,"  but  rather  a  transformation  of  it,  the  offspring  of  what  is 
known  as  Chemism.  This  new  school  owes  its  origin  to 
Nepomuh  Fitchs,  the  Munich  Chemist  and  Mineralogist.  One 
of  its  most  zealous  advocates  is  A .  Wagner,  whose  excellent  and 
instructive  work  (History  of  the  Primeval  World,  2  vols.  Leipz. 
1857)  is  calculated  to  awaken  an  interest  in  those  questions  even 
beyond  the  circle  of  geologists.  That  Chemism  is  really  a  for- 
midable opponent  of  Plutonism  may  be  gathered  even  from  the 
circumstance  that  BiscJiqf  of  Bonn,  one  of  the  most  eminent 
geologists,  although  originally  a  zealous  advocate  of  Vulcanism, 

have  also  been  arranged  into  two  classes  called  the  secondary  and  tertiary. 
To  the  secondary  formation  belong  the  lower  and  more  ancient  strata  from 
the  red  sandstone  to  chalk.  To  the  tertiary  formation  belong  all  strata 
lying  above  the  chalk.  'J'hcn  comes  the  diluvial  land,  being  the  residuum  of 
the  last  general  flood  which  had  taken  place  before  the  appearance  of  man, 
and,  finally,  the  alluvial  land,  which  has  been  formed  by  inundations  that 
have  occurred  in  historical  times. 


CVl  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

has,  in  the  course  of  his  chemical  investigations  and  experiences 
arrived  at  results  (see  his  Manual  of  Geology,  Bonn  1847 — 54) 
which  do  not  very  materially  differ  from  the  conclusions  of  A. 
Wagner. 

But,  he  this  as  it  may,  the  theologian  as  sucli  is  not  called 
upon  to  take  either  one  or  the  other  side  in  this  controversy. 
However  lively  the  interest  he  may  feel,  and  however  deep  his 
personal  and  private  sympathies  with  one  or  the  other  jaarty — 
his  theology  is  not  affected  by  the  issue  of  the  contest.  As  Theo- 
logian it  is  matter  of  indiiference  to  him  whicliever  party  may 
gain  temporary  ascendancy  or  have  ultimate  and  complete  vic- 
tory. 


§  2.    STATE  OF  THE  QUESTION. 

Even  more  than  astronoviy,  the  oldest  of  sciences,  has  geology^ 
her  youngest  sister,  been  put  forward  to  undermine  the  autho- 
rity of  the  Bible.  Her  pretended  or  real  conclusions  have,  with 
unexampled  confidence,  been  placed  side  by  side  with  those  of 
tlie  Biblical  narrative  of  creation,  and  declared  entirely  inconsis- 
tent with  it.  Although  the  results  of  this  science  are  as  yet  in 
part  more  unsatisfactory,  and  her  conclusions  less  settled  than 
those  of  any  other,  certain  parties  have  not  hesitated  to  ascribe 
to  them  a  degree  of  reliableness,  compared  with  which  the  state- 
ments of  revelation  must  be  withdrawn  as  the  products  of  a 
childish  superstition. 

However,  attempts  have  not  been  awanting  to  defend  the 
authority  of  the  Mosaic  cosmogony,  and  to  show  that  the  oppo- 
sition between  it  and  geology  is  due  to  the  fancy  of  evil-disposed 
or  mistaken  persons.  The  geological  and  theological  literature 
of  Britain,  Frauce,  and  Germany,  numbers  many  works  composed 
with  that  object  in  view.  But  generally  the  unprejudiced  reader 
feels  that  these  attempts  at  harmony  are  forced  and  unnatural, 
and  that  the  cause  of  truth  has  been  rather  injured  than  advanced 
by  them.  Their  chief  defect  lies  in  this,  that,  like  their  opponents, 
these  advocates  of  the  Bible  have  failed  to  perceive  that  it  is  an 
exclusively  religious  document.  Information  on  questions  con- 
nected with  natural  science  has  been  looked  for  in  Genesis,  and 


§  3.    BIBLE  NOT  INCOMPATIBLE  WITH  GEOLOGICAL  THEORY.       Cvll 

the  words  of  Scripture  have  been  twisted  till  they  half  agreed 
with  the  results  of  scientific  investigation.  It  was  not  observed 
that  from  their  very  nature,  the  purely  physical  and  the  purely 
religious  phases  of  the  history  of  creation  should  be  expected 
rather  to  supplement  each  other  than  to  coincide — that  the  Bible 
teaches  what  lies  beyond  the  domain  of  natural  science,  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  geology  those  phases  of  development  which  are 
beyond  the  purport  and  object  of  the  Bible. 


§  3.    THE  BIBLE  IS  NOT  INCOMPATIBLE  WITH  ANY  GEOLOGICAL 

THEORY. 

Four  arguments  are  specially  urged  to  show  that  geology  is 
inconsistent  with  the  Mosaic  account  of  creation.  The  first  is  as 
follows : 

The  Bible  teaches  that  the  present  earth  was  formed  through 

the  agency  of  ivater   (Neptimism),  ivhile  geology  has 

placed  it  beyond  doubt  that  fire,  and  not  water,  was  the 

original  a7id  real  agency  in  the  foi'mation  of  the  crust  of 

the  earth. 

We  have  already  shown  that  the  controversy  between  Neptun- 

ism  and  Vulcanism  is  not  yet  decided,  and  that  the  latter  system, 

though  still  advocated  by  most  geologists,  is  not  quite  so  secm'e 

as  it  would  fain  appear.     But  assuming  that  such  were  the  case, 

we  have  to  meet  the  statement  that  the  Bible  embodies  a  system 

wholly  opposed  to  that  which  in  geology  bears   the   name  of 

Vulcanism  or  Plutonism. 

The  Mosaic  record  teaches  that  at  the  commencement  of  the 
six  days,  the  Spirit  of  (lod  moved  on  the  face  of  the  luaters. 
But  this  only  implies  that  the  seer  to  whom  we  owe  this  account 
beheld  at  first  only  water.  As  a  faithful  witness  he  reports  what 
he  had  actually  seen.  In  the  meantime,  he  leaves  it  undecided 
whether  loe  are  to  conceive  that  the  whole  material  of  the  earth 
was  dissolved  in  these  waters,  or  that  a  solid  terrestrial  nucleus 
loas  covered  by  these  ivaters. 

Let  us  see  whether,  in  the  course  of  this  narrative,  we  can  find 
any  data  for  answering  this  query.     On  the  first  day  light  was 


CVlll  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

called  forth  out  of  darkness.  If  we  were  warranted  thence  to 
draw  inferences,  these  would  rather  tend  toward  the  second  of 
the  above  suppositions.  For  if,  as  appears  most  likely,  we  trace 
this  origin  of  light  to  electro-magnetic  agency,  this  would  accord 
much  better  with  the  idea  that  the  earth  was  a  firm  nucleus 
(only  covered  by  water),  with  manifold  rocky  strata,  and  hence 
offering  points  of  polaristic  antagonism,  than  if  we  were  to  con- 
ceive that  the  earth  was  in  a  state  of  complete  fluidity,  in  which 
all  those  materials  which  j)resently  are  separated  were  mixed  up 
and  confused. 

The  origin  of  light  on  the  first  day  might  indeed  be  traced  to 
another  than  electro-magnetic  agency,  and  that  a  cause  which 
would  harmonise  with  the  opposite  view,  viz.,  the  force  of  cry- 
stallisation, by  which  the  substances  dissolved  in  these  waters 
became  immense  crystalKsed  mountains,  wliich,  as  it  were,  con- 
stituted the  skeleton  of  the  earth.  It  is  true  that  the  process  of 
crystallisation,  even  if  accomplished  by  the  agency  of  water,  is 
attended  by  the  evolution  of  light,  and,  if  carried  on  on  so  vast 
a  scale  as  that  here  supposed,  it  may  have  brought  about  an 
evolution  of  light  sufficient  to  Kght  up  the  whole  earth  with  the 
clearness  of  day.  But  such  an  evolution  of  light  could  scarcely 
be  conceived  as  regularly  disappearing  and  returning,  and  as 
three  times  regularly  alternating  in  light  and  darkness,  in  day 
and  night. 

Tlie  work  of  the  first  day,  then,  does  not  afford  the  means  of 
satisfactorily  deciding  our  enquiry.  On  the  second  day,  the 
upper  were  separated  from  the  lower  waters.  If,  with  Ebi^ard, 
Delitzsch,  and  Ndgelshach,  we  were  to  regard  the  upper  loaters 
as  the  substratum  from  which  the  upper  heavenly  bodies  were 
formed,  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  in  which  the  present  earth 
arose  from  the  lower  waters,  the  view  that  the  globe  existed 
already  at  the  commencement  of  the  six  creative  days  would 
have  to  be  abandoned.  But  this  idea  has  (in  chap.  i.  and  ii.) 
been  shown  to  be  untenable.  We  are  thoroughly  convinced  that 
the  expression  "  upper  waters"  refers  to  the  clouds,  and  that  the 
terrestrial  atmosphere  was  formed  on  the  second  day.  In  this 
view,  then,  the  work  of  the  second  day  does  not  throw  light  on 
our  enquiries. 

On  the  third  day,   the  lower  waters  were,  in  obedience  to 


§  3.       BIBLE  NOT  INCOMPATIBLE  WITH  GEOLOGICAL  THEORY.  cix 

omnipotent  command,  gathered  in  separate  places,  and  the  dry 
land  appeared.  This  separation  of  sea  and  land  might  be  ac- 
counted for  by  the  formation  of  a  compact  globe,  and  especially 
by  the  uprising  of  mountains,  in  which  case  it  would  seem  to 
favom'  the  first  hypothesis.  But  certainly  the  text  does  not 
necessarily/  imply  this.  Just  as  at  the  flood  (when  the  earth  was 
likewise  covered  with  water) ,  the  waters  were  again  driven  back 
witliin  their  former  limits,  without  its  being  necessary  for  this 
purpose  that  mountains  should  rise,  so  here  also  the  waters  may 
have  retired  without  any  such  agency.  If,  on  the  third  day,  the 
waters  had  been  collected  by  the  formation  of  a  compact  earth, 
the  uprising  of  mountains,  and  the  depression  of  valleys,  it  would 
almost  appear  unaccountable  that  this  should  not  have  been  ad- 
verted to  in  the  record.  For,  in  that  case,  not  the  collecting  of 
the  waters,  but  the  uprising  and  descending  of  portions  of  the 
earth  would  have  been  the  most  important  and  striking  pheno- 
menon, which  accordingly  the  seer  who  wrote  what  he  beheld 
would  have  described.  But  his  statement  leads  us  to  infer  that  tliis 
process  took  place  with  much  less  disturbance  than  that  implied 
in  the  case  supposed.  Nay,  if  in  our  interpretation  of  the  text 
we  strictly  keep  by  its  wording,  we  must  admit  that  not  only  does 
it  not  indicate  that  firm  land  arose  on  the  third  day,  but  that 
it  rather  implies  the  opposite.  It  is  as  follows :  "  God  said, 
let  the  loaters  he  gathered  together  in  one  place,  that  tlte  dry 
land  may  he  seen  (appear).     And  it  was  so." 

The  text  refers  only  to  the  gathering  of  the  waters,  but  not 
to  the  production  of  dry  land.  On  the  contrary  the  latter  is 
supposed  already  to  exist,  and  is  now  only  to  appear.  In  oppo- 
sition to  this  view  Delitzsch  appeals  to  Ps.  civ.  8  (comp.  ch.  i. 
§  7).  While  Hengstenherg  renders  this  passage  :  "  They  {the 
waters)  go  up  to  the  mountains,  they  go  down  to  the  valleys,"  he 
translates  it  with  Maurer,  Eivald,  Olshausen,  and  others,  by : 
"  The  mountains  ascended,  the  valleys  descended."  He  infers 
that,  since  this  Psalm  traced  the  progress  in  the  work  of  creation, 
it  proves  that  the  mountains  were  only  formed  on  the  third  day. 
In  former  editions  of  this  book  we  had  adopted  the  view  of 
Hengstenherg  and  controverted  that  of  Delitzsch.  We  are  now, 
however,  constrained  to  recede  from  tliat  position,  although  we 
still  oppose  the  interpretation  which  Delitzsch  puts  on  this  pas- 


ex  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

sage,  and  the  inferences  which  he  draws  from  it.      Against  his 
translation  we  had  formerly  urged  the  connection  between  vers. 
9  and  8.      In  ver.  9  we  read :  "  Thou  hast  set  a  bound  which 
they  do  not  pass  over,  they  do  not  return  to  cover  the  earth," 
evidently  referring  to  the  waters  mentioned  in  ver.  6,  and  which 
no  doubt  are  also  spoken  of  in  ver.  7 :  "at  thy  rebuke  they  fled  ; 
at  the  voice  of  Thy  thunder  they  hasted  away."     We  thought  it 
impossible  that  ver.  8  should  pass  on  to  another  subject  (to  the 
mountains  and  valleys),  and  yet  ver.  9  again  return  to  that  of 
ver.  7  (the  waters).      Delitzsch  has  recognised  the  force  of  this 
argument,  and  attempted  to  set  it  aside,  although  in  an  unsatis- 
factory manner.     He  observes :  "  Perhaps  we  should  interpret  it 
thus :  '  The  mountains  ascended  ;  they  (the  waters)  descended 
into  the  valleys,  unto  the  place  which  thou  has  founded  for  them.' 
This  interpretation  of  ver.  8  removes  the  objection  that  in  ver.  7 
and  in  ver.  9  '  the  waters'  are  the  principal  subject."    But  mani- 
festly this  is  merely  a  device  to  escape  a  difficulty.      In  a  gram- 
matical point   of  view,  indeed,  both  modes  of  translation  are 
warranted.      But  from  the  parallelism  of  the  two  sentences  and 
the  correspondence  between  the  words  "  mountains"  and  "val- 
leys," and  "ascend"  and  "descend,"  it  is  plain  that  we  must 
adopt  for  both  clauses  either  one  or  the  other  interpretation.    A 
confusion  of  the  two  is  as  much  opposed  to  the  rules  of  poetry  as 
of  hermeneutics,  and  leads  to  difficulties  greater  that  those  which 
it  is  intended  to  remove.     But,  in  truth,  the  change  of  subject 
in  ver,  9  (that  in  ver.  8  requires  not  explanation)  is  not  of  very 
great  importance.     We  account  for  it  on  the  gTound  of  poetical 
license,  common  especially  in  Hebrew, 

Of  greater  force  is  the  objection  that  the  mountains,  which 
according  to  this  view  only  arise  in  ver.  8,  are  already  assumed 
as  existing  in  ver.  6  :  "  The  deep,  as  with  a  garment,  hast  Thou 
covered ;  the  ivaters  stood  above  the  mountains."  To  this  Delitzsch 
replies  by  paraphrasing  "  the  mountains  " — viz.,  those  which 
were  to  arise.  But  this  is  quite  arbitrary.  Mountains  are  not 
plains  or  valleys  which  may  afterwards  U2:)rise  into  mountains. 
If  there  were  no  other  mode  of  explaining  the  difficulty,  it  would 
be  impossible  to  render  ver,  8  otherwise  than  Hengstenberg  has 
done.  But  we  are  convinced  that  this  need  not  be  the  case. 
Olshausen  aptly  remarks  on  ver.  8  :  "  Mountains  ascend,  valleys 


§  3.  BIBLE  NOT  INCOMPATIBLE  WITH  GEOLOGICAL  THEORY.     Cxi 

descend  ;  at  least  it  appears  so  to  the  onlooker  when  the  level  of 
the  water  falls."  The  expression  is  then  a  figure  of  speech  so 
simple,  so  natural,  and  so  common  among  poets,  that  it  removes 
every  difficulty.  It  is  a  pictorial  and  poetic  mode  of  expression 
which  ver.  6  prevents  from  being  misunderstood. 

We  have  felt  constrained  to  adopt  the  version  "  mountains 
ascend "  from  the  circumstance  that  the  other  translation  is  in 
direct  opposition  to  ver,  7,  where  the  waters  are  said  to  flee  at 
the  rebuke  of  Jehovah.  Manifestly  the  voice  of  God  is  there 
rei^resented  as  almigldy,  and  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that  in 
the  succeeding  verse  the  waters  should  be  described  as  not  imme- 
diately restrained  but  as  still  in  a  state  of  rebellion.  Again,  our 
version  is  the  plainest  and  most  obvious,  although  the  other  is, 
grammatically  speaking,  not  unwarranted. 

But,  as  already  stated,  all  this  does  not  interfere  with  our 
conviction  that  Ps,  civ.  6 — 9  militates  quite  as  much  as  Gen.  i. 
9  against  the  view  that  the  firm  land  was  only  formed  on  the 
third  creative  day.  This  is  sufficiently  shown  by  ver,  5,  accord- 
to  which  the  foundations  of  the  earth  were  already  laid  (a  con- 
clusion confirmed  by  the  close  of  ver.  8,  "  unto  the  place  which 
Thou  hadst  founded  for  them") — and  by  ver.  G,  which  informs 
us  that  the  mountains  existed  before  the  third  creative  day, 
described  in  vers.  7 — 9,  had  commenced. 

Neither  in  Gen.  i.  nor  in  any  other  place  does  the  Bible  assert 
aught  either  as  to  the  process,  period,  or  mode  of  the  forma- 
tion of  mountains.  On  the  contrary  these  are  pre-supposed  as 
abeady  existing,  and  creation  commences  at  a  time  when  the 
mountains  and  the  earth's  crust  are  there,  but  still  covered  by 
a  flood  which  destroyed  and  which  prevents  all  life,  and  after 
the  removal  of  which  the  present  state  of  the  earth,  with  its 
plants,  animals,  and  men,  was  immediately  restored.  But  if 
this  be  the  case,  how,  we  ask,  can  the  Bible  not  be  recon- 
ciled either  with  any  present  or  possible  theory  as  to  the  for- 
mation of  the  earth?  The  "  thohu  vabohu"  which  preceded 
creation,  and  the  limits,  duration,  action,  and  reaction  of  which 
are  not  described,  affords  room  for  the  absolute  sway  of  Nep- 
tune or  of  Vulcan,  or  indeed  for  any  possible  duration,  mode, 
or  issue  of  their  contest.  Is  it  thought  that  "  millions  of  years  " 
were  requisite  to  make  the  crust  of  the  earth  what  it  presently  is 


CXll  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

— we  may  be  as  lavish  in  conceding  as  geologists  are  bold  in 
demanding.  The  only  thing  we  demand  in  return,  and  which  no 
geological  theory  can  or  will  deny,  is,  that  it  be  conceded  to  us 
that  before  the  appearance  of  man,  and  of  the  present  plants  and 
animals,  the  globe  was  covered  with  water.  It  does  not  mat- 
ter whether  this  flood  is  regarded  as  the  only  one  which  had 
ever  taken  place,  or  as  the  last  of  a  very  long  series  ;  all  that 
concerns  us  is  that  whatever  form  geology  may  assume  it  can- 
not dispense  with  loater  as  an  agent  in  the  formation  of  the 
earth.  If  it  insist  upon  ten  floods  instead  of  merely  one,  we  are 
only  the  more  certain  that  one  of  them  must  be  that  of  which 
the  Bible  speaks.  In  this  the  religious  bearing  of  the  Word 
appears  that  it  does  not  anticipate  human  science  nor  solve 
problems  which  fall  within  the  province  of  empirical  investiga- 
tion. Hence  the  results  of  science  can  never  be  opposed  to  the 
Bible,  nor  even  lead  to  a  dangerous  contest  with  it.  Eevelation 
leaves  a  "  carte  blanche"  for  the  results  of  natural  science.  It 
neither  advocates  Vulcanism  nor  Neptunism ;  it  only  teaches 
what  concerns  the  soul.  It  decides  as  little  in  the  controversy 
between  these  geological  'parties  as  in  that  between  Homoeo- 
pathy and  Aleopathy. 


§  4.    THE  BIBLE  DOES  NOT    TEACH  THAT  THE  EARTH  WAS    FORMED 

IN  SIX  DAYS. 

We  turn  now  to  the  second  argument  against  the  Bible  drawn 
from  geology.     It  is  said : 

The  Bible  teaches  that  the  earth  in  its  present  state  re- 
quired only  six  times  twenty-four  hours  for  its  forma- 
tion, while  geology  has  proved  beyond  the  possibility  of 
contradiction  that  many  thousand — nay ,  perhaps  millions 
— of  years  were  required  before  the  present  earth's  crust, 
loithits  many  and  varied  formations,  coidd  be  produced, 
or  the  many  successive  creations  coidd  take  place,  con- 
tinue, and  pass  away. 
However  extravagant  the  assertions  of  geologists,  it  is  not 
our  purpose  to  controvert  them,  but  rather  to  enquire  whether, 


§  4.    THE  EARTH  NOT  FORMED  IN  SIX  DAYS.  Cxiii 

supposing  them  to  be  true,  they  can  be  reconciled  with  the 
Bible.  The  common  plan — adopted  and  supported  also  by 
DeliUsch  and  Rougemont — is  to  assign  to  each  of  the  creative 
days  not  a  common  or  terrestrial,  but  a  prophetic  and  Divine 
duration  of  indeterminable  length.  The  fallacy  of  this  view  we 
have  already  shown  (ch.  i.  §  4,  ch.  ii.  §  2).  But  we  also  appeal 
with  all  confidence  to  the  conclusion  at  which  we  have  arrived, 
viz.  that  the  Bible  gives  no  information  about  the  origin  and 
formation  of  mountains,  but  presupposes  them  as  existing  before 
the  commencement  of  the  creative  days.  If,  then,  these  strata 
originated  before  the  period  of  the  Biblical  creation,  so  must 
also  the  Fauna  and  Flora  which  lie  buried  and  petrified  in  them. 
Between  the  first  and  the  second,  and  between  the  second  and 
third  verses  of  Gen.  i..  Revelation  leaves  two  blank  pages  on 
which  Science  may  write  to  fill  up  the  gaps  which  Revelation 
has  left  in  regard  to  subjects  which  lay  beyond  its  province.  Holy 
Writ  has  only  furnished  an  inscription,  or  brief  table  of  con- 
tents to  each  of  these  "  cartes  blanches."  The  first  reads  :  "  In 
the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth."  How 
this  was  done,  or  in  what  space  of  time,  what  followed,  what 
evolutions  or  revolutions  had  taken  place,  till  the  period  de- 
scribed in  ver.  2 — Scripture  does  not  indicate.  Human  science 
— if  it  can — may  fill  up  the  blank.  The  second  inscription 
reads :  "  And  the  earth  was  without  form  and  void,  and  the 
Spirit  of  God  moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters."  Revelation 
does  not  tell  what  effects  tliis  moving  of  the  Spirit  had  produced  ; 
what  formations  He  had  called  forth,  what  took  place  in  those 
depths  so  long  as  darkness  covered  them,  the  seer  beheld  not  and 
hence  described  not.  Only  when  it  became  light,  he  distinguished 
what  took  place,  and  there  his  report  commences. 

In  these  two  inscriptions  has  Revelation  laid  an  immov- 
able foundation,  by  which  Atheism  and  Pantheism  are  at  once 
deprived  of  all  support.  Let  experience,  combination,  speculation, 
natural  science,  philosophy,  and  tlieology,  attempt  to  build  on 
this  foundation.  But  other  foundation  can  no  man  lay,  and 
here  also  applicis  the  saying  of  the  apostle,  1  Cor.  iii.  12 — 15, 
both  in  its  warning  and  promise.  The  formation  of  the  strata, 
and  the  history  of  their  petrified  organisms,  belong  to  a  period 
anterior  to  Gen.  i.  3.     But  whether  thev  should  be  placed  bc- 

h 


CXIV  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  iilBLE. 

tween  ver.  1  and  vcr.  2,  or  between  ver.  2  and  ver.  3,  each  one 
who  is  anxious  to  reconcile  the  results  of  human  science  with  the 
statements  of  revelation,  may  settle  as  best  he  can.  The  de- 
fender of  the  Bible  can  feel  no  special  interest  how  that  question 
is  decided — suffice  it,  that  he  has  assigned  to  geology  a  place 
where  its  conclusions  can  without  let  or  hindrance  be  inserted. 

Natural  science  has  only  to  investigate  the  present  state  of 
nature.  In  one  respect  it  matters  not  how  the  philosophy  of 
nature  may  arrange  or  explain  these  results,  nor  whether  it  is 
able  to  do  so  at  all.  Tt  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  difficult 
problems  assigned  to  that  philosophy,  to  explain  those  creations 
which  have  passed  away  before  man  ap})eared,  and  which  have 
for  thousands  of  years  lain  buried  in  their  rocky  graves.  Ke- 
ligious  philosophy,  and  even  theological  investigations  and  specu- 
lation, may  take  part  in  the  attempt  to  solve  these  riddles. 
Difficulties  and  perplexities  may  increase — but  they  neither 
devolve  on  the  student  of  natural  science  nor  on  the  exegetical 
student,  so  long  as  each  keeps  a  clear  conscience.  The  faithful 
enquirer  into  the  mysteries  of  nature,  and  he  who  searches  the 
deep  things  of  revelation,  may  comfort  themselves  with  the  state- 
ment of  the  apostle  (1  Cor.  xiii.)  :  "  For  we  know  in  part  and 
we  prophesy  in  part.  But  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come, 
then  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away.  When  I  was 
a  child,  I  spake  as  a  child,  I  understood  as  a  child,  I  thought  as 
a  child  ;  but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put  away  childish  things. 
For  now  we  see  through  a  glass,  darkly  ;  but  then  face  to  face  : 
now  I  'know  in  part ;  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also  I  am 
known." 


§  5.  THE  BIBLE  DOES  NOT  ADVERT  TO  THE  CREATION  OJP  THE  NOW 
PETRIFIED  ORGANISMS. 

The  third  argument  urged  to  show  the  incompatibility  of  the 
Bible  with  the  results  of  natural  science  is  derived  from  the  suc- 
cessive appearance  of  organic  formations. 

The  Bible  teaches  a  simple  succession  of  three  ctxations : 
on  the  third  day  plants,  on  tliefftk  aqimtic  animals  ojnd 


§  J.     ii:iE  fETKlFIED  ORGANISMS.  UXV 

hirdu,  on  the  sixth  land  animals  and  man  vjerecr  eated. 
But  geology  sJiows  thai  in  each  of  the  different  periods  of 
creation  the  different  classes  of  plants  and  animals  had 
simultaneously  been  made  and  co-existed,  and  that  the 
progression  tohich  had  taken  place  in  them  was  quite 
different  from  that  detailed  in  the  Bible. 
In  tlie  solution  of  this  difficulty,  those  interpreters  who  have 
endeavoiu-ed  to  show  that  the  geological  series  in  the  periods  of 
organic  creation  coincided  with  the  Biblical  series  of  animals  and 
plants  destined  for  man,  have  been  singularly  unsuccessful.  With- 
out entering  on  their  explanations,  we  are  able  to  protect  the 
authority  of  the  Bible  from  the  attacks  of  geological  sciolists. 
The  only  possible  and  sufficient  proof  that  the  Bible  is  not  in- 
comp>atil)le  ivitli  geology  is  derived  from  the  frank  and  full  ad- 
mission that  these  tico  series  camiot  be  made  to  agree.  Appa- 
rently contradictory  events  and  facts  may  be  reconciled  in  one  of 
two  ways.  It  may  either  be  shown  that  they  are  identical,  and 
that  their  difference  is  merely  apparent,  or  arises  from  a  mis- 
understanding. This  mode  of  conciliation  has  been  adopted  by 
those  to  whom  we  have  adverted — and  their  attempts  have,  as 
might  be  expected,  signally  failed.  Or  else  it  may  be  admitted 
that  the  difference  of  apparently  contradictory  facts  is  real,  in 
which  case  it  is  no  longer  sought  to  show  that  they  are  identical, 
while,  however,  at  the  same  time  proof  is  led  to  show  that  they 
are  not  contradictory  but  true,  when  regarded  as  separate  events. 
This  is  the  plan  which  BucMand  (in  the  Bridgewater  Treatise), 
and  after  him  A .  Wagner  and  Hengstenbeoy,  have  adopted,  and 
which  we  do  not  hesitate  to  characterise  as  the  only  correct  one. 
Above  we  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  the  Bible  says 
nothing  about  the  formation  of  the  earth's  crust  and  of  moun- 
tains, and  that  the  Hexaemerou  (as  well  as  Ps.  civ.)  presupposes 
them  as  already  existing.  Hence  the  organisms  also  which  lie 
concealed  in  these  strata  originated  not  during  but  i^revious  to 
the  six  creative  days.  We  hold  that  the  creation  of  plants  and 
animals  which  the  Bible  relates  is  different  from,  and  posterior 
to,  that  of  the  organisms  which  geology  brings  forth  from  their 
rocky  gTaves.  To  the  latter  the  Bible  does  not  refer,  since  it 
was  only  concerned  to  narrate  the  creation  of  those  animals  and 
plants  which  were  assigned  to  man.     It  professes  to  be  a  rule  of 

h'l 


CXVl  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

faith,  and  not  a  manual  of  geology.  But  those  plants  and  animals 
whose  creation  the  Bible  relates  are  not  found  entombed  in  the 
strata,  since  the  latter  were  formed  before  that  creation  com- 
menced. The  question  as  to  the  order  in  which  their  first 
representatives  appeared  can  manifestly  find  no  place  in  the 
Scriptures. 


§  6.  DEATH  ON  THE  PRE-ADAMITE  EARTH. 

We  arrive  now  at  the  fourth  and  last  objection,  which  has 
been  urged  by  Oerstedt,  the  celebrated  discoverer  of  Electro- 
Magnetism  (in  his  well-known  work,  "  The  Spirit  in  Nature"), 
and  by  Charles  Vogt,  in  opposition  to  Biblical  statements. 

The  Bible  teaches  that  sickness  and  death  had  entered  the 
ivorld  only  after  the  fcdl  of  man,  and  tltrough  him,  and 
that  the  destruction  of  the  animal  body  formed  not  part 
of  the  original  arrangement  of  nature,  but  had.  entered 
at  a  later  period.     But  geology  shoivs  that  even  before  ^ 
the  appearance  of  man,  disease  and  death  had  reigned 
upon  the  earth,  and  carnivorous  animals  had  existed. 
Whole  tvorlds  of  living  beings  had  become  the  prey  of 
death,  and  among  the  individual  species  loe  discover  a 
number  of  carnivorous  animals  which,  from  the  first,  and 
by  creation,  had  been  so  organised  as  to  bring  death  to 
other  animals  lohich  at  the  same  time  with  them  inha- 
bited the  earth.     Manifest  marks  of  disease  in  the  bones 
'   of  primeval  animals  also  prove  that  among  these  animals 
also  death  had  been  the  natural  and  continuous  goal  of 
life. 
In  this  case  also  we  will  not  discuss  the  statements  of  these 
geologists,  but  shall  content  ourselves  with  asserting  that  they 
are  compatible  with  the  narrative  of  the  Bible.      The  argument 
proceeds  on  the  supposition  than  man's  sin  had  brought  disease 
and  death  into  the  world,  i.e.,  not  only  among  men  but  also 
among  animals.     This  has  indeed  been  the  commonly  received 
view,  but  it  is  not  the  express  doctrine  of  the  Bible.     Wherever 
the  Scriptures  refer  to  death  as  the  wages  of  sin,  the  expression 


§  C.    DEATH  ON  THE  I'RE-ADAMITE  EARTH.  CXvii 

applies  only  to  man  ;  nor  does  any  passage  expressly  warrant 
us  in  applying  it  to  animals  also.  This,  however,  has  been 
commonly  done,  and  the  Biblical  view  has  by  a  process  of  theo- 
logical combination,  analogy,  and  inference,  been  developed  and 
generalised  in  accordance  witli  this  view.  But  if  science  could 
really  prove  that  the  inference  is  incorrect,  we  might  at  once 
drop  it  without  in  any  way  injuring  the  authority  of  the  Bible. 
Nor  has  this  statement  ever  been  propounded  as  a  dogma. 
Christianity  has  always  proclaimed  it  as  a  fundamental  dogma 
that  by  sin  death  has  entei-ed  into  the  world  of  man — but  not 
that  animals  would  not  have  died  if  man  had  not  sinned.  Since 
the  Bible  is  silent  on  the  point,  we  hold  that  biblically  either  of 
the  above  two  propositions  were  admissible.  The  original  im- 
mortality of  the  physical  life  of  man  depended  on  the  circumstance 
that  he  was  a  personal,  spiritual  being,  created  in  the  image  of 
God.  His  mortality  was  due  to  the  fact  that  through  sin  he  had 
become  separated  from  the  great  type  and  source  of  his  person- 
ality. While,  therefore,  so  far  as  man  was  concerned,  death 
was  a  perversion  of  his  bodily  nature  (as  sin  was  of  his  spiritual 
nature) — ^this  cannot  be  said  of  animals,  since  their  nature  offers 
no  absolute  ground  for  claiming  immortality  for  them.  If  such 
existed,  it  coidd  only  be  derived  from  the  relation  existing  be- 
tween animals  and  man,  not  from  their  own  nature.  Similarly 
we  might  conceive  it  possible,  that  from  the  first  animals  had 
been  intended  to  feed  upon  each  other,  although  not  to  attack 
man,  as  at  present  is  the  case,  since  he  was  destined  to  be  their 
absolute  lord.  Perhaps  this  carnivorous  tendency  of  some  species 
of  animals  may  have  formed  part  of  the  original  economy  of 
nature.  Perhaps  man  was  destined,  as  the  ruler  of  nature,  to 
have  restrained  those  excesses  which  have  now  assumed  so  fear- 
ful a  character  ; — perhaps  it  might  even  have  been  his  to  conduct 
the  economy  of  nature  to  a  higher  stage  in  which  these  anta- 
gonisms would  have  given  place  to  a  higher  harmony. 

However,  we  will  not  deny  it  that  we  have  adopted  the  oppo- 
site view  from  this,  although  we  do  not  consider  it  as  expressly 
taught  in  Scripture,  and  hence  not  as  claiming  our  implicit  and 
unconditional  submission.  We  regard  it  as  an  amplification  of 
the  Biblical  doctrine,  derived  from  analogy  and  combination, 
and  hence  possil)ly  erroneous,     it  nnist  be  traced  not  so  much 


CXVlll  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

to  objective  revelation  as  to  tlie  subjective  Christian  conscious- 
ness. The  Bible,  indeed,  teaches  expressly  that  sin  has  not  only- 
led  to  a  distui'bing  catastrophe  in  the  physical  and  psychical  life 
of  man,  but  also  introduced  changes  in  the  life  of  nature  which 
stands  in  closest  connection  with  that  of  man.  It  is  distinctly 
declared :  "  Cursed  is  the  ground  for  thy  salve,  thorns  and 
thistles  shall  it  bring  forth  to  thee."  This  statement  applies, 
indeed,  in  the  first  place,  only  to  plants.  But  the  inference  is 
almost  inevitable  that  the  animal  Idngdom  was  at  that  time 
affected  in  similar  manner,  and  that  when  thorns  and  thistles 
sprung  up  among  plants,  rapaciousness  and  desire  after  blood 
appeared  in  the  animal  kingdom.  This  transformation  must 
indeed  have  been  very  deep,  and  have  affected  the  entire  organi- 
sation of  many  species  of  animals,  which  are  presently  so  con- 
stituted that  the  use  of  flesh  is  necessary  for  them.  Both  in  the 
transformation  of  the  vegetable  and  the  animal  kingdom,  we 
cannot  account  for  the  changes  by  a  mere  degeneracy.  We  are 
obliged  to  assume  that  as  the  pristine  tendency  had  been  given 
in  creation  as  a  blessing,  so  this  new  direction  must  be  traced 
to  a  Divine  judgment  and  punishment.  This  supposition  seems 
warranted,  since  it  is  almost  implied  in  the  curse  pronounced  on 
the  ground  for  the  sake  of  man.  The  prediction  in  Is.  xi.  6 — 9, 
according  to  which,  at  the  time  of  restitution,  "  the  wolf  shall 
dwell  with  the  laml),  the  cow  and  the  bear  shall  feed,  and  the 
lion  eat  straw  like  the  ox,"  seems  also  to  favour  this  view.  For 
even  though  the  imagery  of  this  description  of  a  blessed  future 
had  been  borrowed  from  the  animal  kingdom  in  order  to  exhibit 
a  measure  of  peace  hitherto  uuattained,  there  must  be  some 
foundation  of  reality  in  the  picture,  from  which  therefore  we  may 
draw  inferences  as  to  the  original  state  of  the  animal  kingdom. 
Lastly,  we  may,  in  corroboration  of  this  view,  appeal  to  the  well- 
known  statement  of  Paul  concerning  the  groaning  of  creation, 
made  subject  to  vanity,  not  willingly,  but  by  reason  of  him  who 
hath  subjected  the  same  in  hope  that  itself  also  shall  be  delivered 
from  the  bondage  of  corruption  into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the 
children  of  God  (Rom.  viii.  19,  &c.).  It  cannot  be  doubted 
that  this  creation,  waiting  and  groaning,  includes  also  the  ani- 
mal kingdom. 

Do  we  then   labour  to  strengthen  the  position  of  our  op- 


§  7.  PALiEONTOLOCY.  Cxix 

ponents  ?  Nay,  but  we  feel  convinced  that  it  is  not  at  all 
formidable  to  us.  Their  argument  confounds  two  heterogeneous 
things.  It  proceeds  on  the  state  of  primeval  organisms  which 
had  been  created  before  man,  but  not  for  him,  and  had  not 
existed  along  ivith  him.  Its  inference  would  only  bo  warranted 
if  it  could  establish  that  what  has  been  the  case  in  regard  to 
primeval  animals  had  continued  before  sin  made  its  apj)ear- 
ance  ;  in  short,  if  it  could  point  out  the  remains  of  animals  which 
had  not  only  lived,  but  died  before  the  fall.  Even  then  the  con- 
clusion would  be  doubtful,  since,  as  we  have  shown,  the  Bible 
does  not  expressly  trace  the  diseases  and  the  rapacity  of  ani- 
mals to  the  fall  of  man. 

Those  primeval  animals  of  which  the  remains  are  found 
biu-ied  in  the  strata,  were  not  created  in  the  Biblical  six  days  ; 
like  the  rocks  which  hold  them,  they  belong  to  a  period  which 
Eevelation  does  not  describe.  Theirs  is  a  world  quite  different 
from  ours,  and  which  has  perished  long  ago.  If  there  we  descry 
murder,  disease,  and  death,  this  does  not  prove  that  the  same 
must  from  the  first  have  taken  place  in  our  v»  orld.  Perhaps  the 
primeval  world  had  been  doomed  to  destruction  because  it  wit- 
nessed murder  and  death — perhaps  it  was  meant  to  give  place 
to  another  world  which  originally  bore  not  traces  of  these  horrors, 
and  wliich  might  have  remained  without  them.  Thus  much,  how- 
ever, we  will  admit,  that  the  world  which  lies  buried  in  these 
strata — in  the  state  in  which  thei-e  we  discover  it — may  not  be 
regarded  as  having  tlius  proceeded  from  the  creative  hand  of 
Grod.  As  sin  and  rebellion  have  brought  mm'der  and  death  into 
our  world,  some  element  of  opposition  to  the  Deity  must  like- 
wise have  introduced  and  given  them  supremacy  in  that  pri- 
meval world.  To  form  a  reliable  judgment  on  these  (pjestions, 
we  should  have  to  study  the  liistory  of  that  world.  But  of  this 
we  can  only  gather  individual  and  uncertain  features. 


§  7.    PALEONTOLOGY. 

We  have  showTi  that  any  actual  or  possible  conclusions  of 
geology  cannot  conflict  with  the  Bible,  and  that  it  takes  no  part 
in  the  controversy  ag  between  Vulcanism  and  Neptunisra.     We 


CXX  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

have  also  learned  that  the  statements  of  the  Bible  and  of  uatm-al 
science  concerning  the  formation  of  the  earth  have  a  different 
object  in  view,  and,  instead  of  militating,  supplement  each  other. 
Between  us  and  geologists  there  is  no  discussion.  We  do  not 
controvert^either  the  real  or  the  imaginary  results  of  their  investi- 
gations ;  we  leave  any  such  contest  to  themselves  in  the  firm 
con^dction  that  theology  has  nothing  to  lose  or  to  gain  whatever 
party  may  ultimately  secure  the  victory.  But  there  is  a  pro- 
vince of  geology  which  has  of  late  become  the  arena  of  the  most 
keen^theological  (not  merely  geological)  discussions.  We  refer 
to  Palceontology,  or  to  the  science  concerning  that  vast  cemetery 
in  which  millions  and  billions  of  former  organisms  lie  entombed. 
We  will  not  withdraw  from  this  contest,  since  we  cannot  ac- 
knowledge om-selves  to  have  formerly  been  worsted,  and  feel  that 
the  question  is  of  sufficient  importance  in  a  theological  point  of 
view. 


§  8.    OKIQIN  OF  PETRIFIED  ORGANISMS. 

We  have  already  frequently  hinted  that  the  stratified  forma- 
tions of  the  earth's  crust  form  the  tomb  of  an  immense  world 
which  had  at  one  time  enjoyed  life.  Let  us,  under  trustworthy 
guidance,  seek  to  find  our  way  in  this  labyrinth  of  a  peti'ified 
world,  and  question  those  witnesses  and  monuments,  to  see 
tvhether  and  ivhat  they  can  tell  us  about  themselves,  or  about 
the  time,  duration,  and  mode  of  their  origin,  life,  and  decay. 
The  first  enquiiy  which  here  meets  us  is  whether  or  not  we  are 
to  regard  the  origin  of  these  organisms  as  identical  with  the 
creation  recorded  in  Genesis  i.  In  opposition  to  many  theolo- 
gians we  return  a  negative  answer  to  this  query,  and  we  do  so 
from  a  comparison  of  the  conclusions  of  Biblical  exegesis  with 
those  of  geognostic  Palaiontolog}^  From  a  geological  point  of 
view,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  these  organisms  cannot  be  of  later 
date  than  the  strata  in  which  they  are  found,  and  tliat  their  term 
of  existence  had  closed  with  the  completion  of  these  strata.  Even 
this  cu'cumstance  would  in  itself  be  decisive.  Besides,  we  have 
already  shown  that  the  Bible  relates  nothing  about  the  origin  of 
the  crust  of  the  earth,  and  indeed  presupposes  it  as  already 


§  9.    OIllGIN  OF  I'PrnilFIED  ORGANISIMS.  CXxi 

existing'  at  the  commencement  of  the  six  creative  days.  It  can- 
not, therefore,  be  supposed  to  describe  the  origin  of  the  pala3on- 
tological  Fauna  and  Flora,  whose  term  must  have  been  run 
befoi-e  the  earth  was  prepared  to  become  the  dwelHng-phice  of 
man.  Lastly,  we  have  already  seen  (chap.  i.  §  4)  that  each  of 
the  creative  days  must  be  regarded  not  as  a  period  of  indefinite 
duration,  but  as  a  natural  and  ordinary  day.  But  if  we  were  to 
suppose  that  those  petrified  organisms  were  produced  on  the 
third,  fifth,  and  sixth  days,  we  should  have  to  regard  these  days 
as  so  many  successive  geological  periods,  consisting  each  of 
thousands  if  not  "  millions"  of  years,  in  order  to  secure  sufficient 
time  for  their  origin,  life,  and  decay,  and  for  the  formation  of 
those  immense  sarcophagi  in  which  they  lie  entombed. 


§  9.    CONTINUATION. 

Proofs  of  the  correctness  of  this  view  accumulate  as  we  pro- 
ceed. If  we  compare  the  specimens  of  petrified  organisms  with 
those  presently  in  existence,  we  find  that  they  may  all  be  ranged 
under  the  great  c?as6'-divisions  of  the  present  vegetable  and 
animal  kingdoms.  But  it  is  otherwise  when  we  descend  to  tribes. 
Admitting  that  all  the  old  tribes  are  not  extinct,  and  that  some 
of  them  are  still  found,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  greater 
part  of  those  types  which  perished  in  the  primeval  world  has 
become  wholly  extinct,  and  vice  versa,  that  many  of  the  existing 
types  were  not  represented  in  the  primeval  world.  Further,  if  we 
compare  the  various  species,  it  is  not  only  probable,  but  almost 
demonstrated,  tliat  not  a  single  animal  or  vegetable  species  of 
the  primeval  world  has  been  preserved  ;  at  least  none  has  as  yet 
been  discovered  which  may  be  pointed  out  as  identical  with  any 
that  presently  exists.  The  vegetable  and  animal  kingdoms  of 
the  strata  are,  therefore,  very  difierent  from  those  of  our  world. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  evident  tliat  those  plants  and  animals, 
of  which  the  Bible  speaks,  were  intended  to  continue  and  to 
remain  with  man  on  the  earth,  and  not  completely  to  disappear 
before  the  appearance  of  man.  This  may  be  gathered  even  from 
the  terms  in  which  we  are  told  that  grass,  herbs,  and  trees — each 
after  their  own  kind — lind  fruit  and  seed  by  whicli  to  propagate 


CXXU  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

their  species,  from  the  emphasis  with  which  we  are  assured  that 
every  type  of  animals  was  created  after  its  oion  kind,  and  from 
the  circumstance  that  each  obtained  the  blessing,  "  Be  fruitful 
and  multij)ly,  and  till  the  waters  and  tlie  earth."  Besides,  the 
Bible  manifestly  refers  to  the  creation  of  organisms  which  had 
indeed  been  produced  before  man,  but  still,  and  on  that  very 
gTOund,  were  destined  for  him.  For  every  herb  bearing  seed, 
upon  the  face  of  all  the  earth,  and  every  tree  in  which  is  fruit,  was 
given  to  man  for  meat ;  and  with  reference  to  animals  man  was 
commanded  to  subdue  them,  and  to  have  dominion  over  the  lish 
of  the  sea,  over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  every  living  thing 
that  moved  upon  the  earth.  The  plants  on  which  he  was  to  feed, 
and  the  beasts  over  which  he  was  to  have  dominion,  were  evidently 
those  whose  creation  is  related  in  that  chapter  ;  hence  the  organ- 
isms described  in  the  Bible  must  also  be  those  which  were  destined 
to  live  along  loith  man,  or,  generally  speaking,  the  plants  and 
animals  presently  existing.  The  same  inference  may  be  gathered 
from  the  constant  repetition  of  the  statement :  "  and  God  saw 
that  it  was  good."  Being  good,  these  creatures  must  have  been 
destined  to  continue  and  not  to  perish.  Lastly,  the  correctness 
of  this  view  appears  from  the  account  of  the  flood,  w^here  the 
destruction  of  the  animal  kingdom  is  explained  on  the  ground 
that  not  only  man,  but  the  earth  also,  was  corrupt,  and  that  all 
flesh  had  corrupted  his  way  upon  the  earth. 

Thus  tiie  Bible  narrati^^e  and  the  results  of  geological  investi- 
gation concerning  extinct  organisms  are  opposed  to  each  other. 
But  this  antagonism  is  counterbalanced  by  that  within  the 
domain  of  natural  science.  For  the  same  contradictions  are 
found  to  exist  between  the  primeval  and  the  present  world,  be- 
tween geology  and  natural  history.  The  organisms  of  the 
primeval  world  are  not  the  animals  and  plants  of  the  Mosaic 
cosmogony,  but  neither  are  tliey  those  of  historical  times,  while  the 
organisms  of  the  Biblical  narrative  are  those  with  which  natural 
history  presently  makes  us  acquainted.  Thus  the  supposed  con- 
tradiction is  entirely  removed.  The  types  buried  in  the  rocks 
were  not  destined  to  continue  perpetually,  or  else  have  not 
attained  their  destination  ;  they  were  not  created  for  man,  and 
have  not  been  his  contemporaries  on  earth.  Long  before  he 
appeared  they  had  become  extinct,  and  were  shut  up  in  their 


§  9.    ORIGtN-  OF  PETRIFED  OBGANISMS.  CXxiii 

rocky  graves.  Only  after  the  lapse  of  6000  years  has  man  be- 
held their  bones,  and  they  now  present  an  enigma  which  natural 
science  will  probably  never  solve — as  if  to  convince  us  of  the 
inadequacy  of  our  powers  at  the  very  jieriod  when  science  pre- 
tends to  be  able  to  explain  everything.  Beyond  doubt  the  fossils 
of  the  rocks  cannot  represent  those  organisms  whose  creation 
the  Bible  relates.  It  speaks  not  of  the  petrifications  and  Entozoa 
of  geology :  it  refers  only  to  those  beings  which  were  created 
for  man,  partly  for  his  nourishment  and  partly  as  means  of,  or 
aids  to,  his  own  peculiar  activity.  On  the  other  hand  geology 
does  not  treat  of  those  creatures  which,  according  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, were  called  forth  on  the  third,  fifth,  and  sixth  days,  nor 
can  this  science  take  notice  of  them,  since  their  types  were  in- 
tended to  continue  and  not  to  perish,  and  their  families  were 
not  to  be  petrified  in  strata,  but  each  individual  was  to  de- 
cay in  the  ordinary  manner,  so  that  their  bones  have  mostly 
passed  away  without  leaving  any  trace.  As  the  Bible  gives 
no  countenance  to  the  idea,  that  the  crust  of  the  earth  was 
formed  on  the  fifth  or  sixtli  day,  and  implies  that  sea  and 
land  had  previously  already  existed,  so  neither  does  it  admit 
the  hypothesis  according  to  which  the  work  of  the  fifth  and 
sixth  days  is  relegated  into  previous  days.  It  does  not  describe 
the  origin  of  the  crust  of  the  earth  and  the  creation  of  organic 
beings  as  having  taken  place  at  the  same  time,  but  as  having 
occurred  the  one  after  the  other. 

Hence  what  geology  relates  belongs  to  a  period  anterior  to 
that  which  the  history  of  creation  describes.  Geology  cannot 
serve  as  a  witness  for  the  truth  of  what  the  Bible  reports  to 
have  taken  place,  but  neither  can  it  bear  testimony  against  it. 
Any  such  attempt  must  be  a  false  testimony,  since  it  bears  not 
on  what  geology  has  seen,  but  on  what  it  has  fancied  or  in- 
vented. Every  attempt,  therefore,  to  harmonise  the  Bible  and 
geology  by  setting  aside  this  relationship,  or  by  seeking  to  repre- 
sent the  formation  of  the  earth's  crust  as  having  taken  place  on 
the  fifth  or  sixth  day,  or  the  creations  of  those  days  as  having 
occurred  at  the  time  when  the  formation  of  the  earth  was  not 
yet  finished,  docs  violence  to  Scripture  and  harm  to  the  good 
cause.  Nay,  it  is  also  opposed  to  the  results  of  natural  investi- 
gation, since,  contrary  to  all  e^ddence,  it  attempts  to  identify  the 


CXXIV  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

organisms  of  the  primeval  world  with  those  of  om*  own.  But 
if  this  be  the  position  taken  up  by  most  theologians,  we  need  not 
wonder  that  their  attempts  at  conciliation  have  proved  unsatis- 
factory and  illusory.  To  Schubert  belongs  the  merit  of  having 
been  the  first  in  his  able  writings  to  point  out  the  right  way  of 
treating  this  subject,  and  to  A.  Wagner  belongs  the  credit  of 
having  successfully  followed  it  out,  thereby  satisfactorily  showing 
the  agreement  between  the  Bible  and  geology. 

§  10.    THE  FLORA  AND  FAUNA  OF  THE  PRISfEVAL  WORLD. 

We  next  turn  to  another  conclusion  of  paleeontology  which 
likewise  confirms  our  view.  Not  less  striking  or  important  than 
the  results  of  a  comparison  between  the  Flora  and  Fauna  of  the 
primeval  and  the  present  world,  are  those  derived  from  a  com- 
parative examination  of  the  former.  The  same  difterence  of 
species,  types  and  families,  the  same  separation  and  isolation 
wliich  we  had  formerly  noticed  to  obtain  between  the  primeval 
and  the  present  world,  is  also  found  to  exist  between  the  various 
forms  of  life  which  occiu*  in  the  difierent  rocky  formations  of 
the  primeval  world. 

This  fact  has  indeed  been  controverted.  Bronn  mentions  that 
different  formations  occasionally  contain  specimens  of  other 
strata.  Thus  the  formation  of  St  Cassian  in  the  Tyrol  is  said 
among  422  kinds  of  petrifaction  to  contain  389,  which  are 
peculiar  to  itself,  seven  that  are  the  same  as  those  of  carboniferous 
limestone  and  compact  limestone,  and  five  that  are  analogous  to 
them  ;  four  that  are  the  same  as  those  of  the  Trias  (new  red 
sandstone),  and  six  that  are  analogous  to  them  ;  four  that  are  the 
same  as  tjiose  of  the  Lias,  and  seven  that  are  analogous  to  them  ; 
one  the  same  as  a  kind  found  in  the  Jura,  and  two  analogous  to 
them.  But  the  conclusions  of  other  celebrated  Palaeontologists 
are  opposed  to  those  of  Bronn.  Thus  Agassiz  remarks  :  "I 
hold  it  to  be  demonstrated  that  the  totality  of  organic  beings 
was  renewed  not  only  in  the  intervals  of  each  of  tliose  great 
^periods  which  we  designate  ^%  formations,  hut  also  in  thestraii- 
f  cation  of  each  separate  division  of  every  formation.  Nor  do 
I  believe  in  the  genetic  descent  of  the  living  species  from  the 
different  tertiary  divisions  whicli  have  been  regarded  as  identical. 


§  10.  THE  FLORA  AND  FAUNA  OF  THE  PRIMEVAL  WOULD.  CXXV 

but  which  I  hold  to  be  specifically  different,  so  that  I  cannot 
adopt  the  idea  of  a  transformation  of  the  species  of  one  forma- 
tion into  that  of  another.  In  enunciating  these  conclusions,  let 
it  be  understood  that  they  are  not  inductions  derived  from  the 
study  of  one  particular  class  of  animals  (such  as  fishes),  and 
applied  to  other  classes,  but  the  results  of  direct  comparison  of 
very  considerable  collections  of  petrifications  of  different  forma- 
tions and  classes  of  animals." 

The  same  author  speaks  of  this  difference  in  the  following 
very  guarded  terms  :  "It  cannot  be  controverted  that  each  for- 
mation has  its  own  peculiar  forms,  and  that  these  constitute  the 
greater  part  of  wliat  they  contain.  Similarly  is  it  certain  that 
different  kinds  do  not  always  intermingle  when  two  kinds  of 
rocks  are  contiguous,  but  this  only  takes  place  in  a  very  few 
instances.  On  this  account  we  are  warranted  in  doubting  this 
fact  till  repeated  investigations  of  well-preserved  and  well-defined 
specimens  shall  have  placed  its  correctness  beyond  question. 
.  .  .  .  Besides,  even  where  outward  forms  apparently  agree, 
we  cannot  at  once  infer  that  two  specimens  are  the  same,  since 
the  colour  or  appearance  of  the  animal  might  have  disclosed  di- 
vergencies which  we  cannot  perceive  in  the  jDetrifications.  At 
least  we  would  be  at  a  loss  in  determining  living  species  if  we  were 
deprived  of  these  characteristic  and  often  indispensable  marks." 
Even  if  Bronn's  opinion  were  therefore  confirmed,  the  general 
fact  (which  mere  exceptions  could  not  remove)  would  still  re- 
main, that  there  is  a  peculiar  genetic  relationship,  not  only 
between  different  rocks,  but  frequently  even  between  the  strata 
of  one  and  the  same  formation,  and  the  organic  types  which 
they  contain,  and  the  conclusion  would  still  be  that  each  for- 
mation had  its  own  independent  creation,  and  hence  that  \^^th 
every  formation  the  act  of  creation  was  renewed.  But  the  Bible 
speaks  only  of  one  creation  of  organic  life,  and  could,  therefore, 
at  most,  allude  to  only  one  of  these  many  creations.  But  that 
even  this  is  not  the  case  is  manifest  from  tlie  fact  that  the  Bible 
refers  to  the  organisms  which  were  created  for  man,  and  hence 
still  continue  ;  wliile»  the  "  transition  "  and  stratified  forma- 
tions only  contain  types  wliich  became  extinct  long  before  man 
appeared. 


CXXM  GEOL(XtY  and  the  BJBLE. 


§  11.    CONTINUATION. 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  the  'primary  formations  do 
not  contain  any  fossils.  These  appear  only  in  the  "  transition." 
and  stratified  formations.  This  circumstance  cannot  have  arisen 
from  the  particular  period  when  the  primary  formations  were 
completed— as  if  the  tendency  to  organic  life  had  only  appeared 
after  that — since  even  those  primary  rocks  which  date  from  the 
time  of  the  "  transition"  and  stratified  formations  contain  no 
traces  of  organic  life.  The  circumstance  must  be  due  to  the 
nature  of  these  rocks,  either  according  to  Vulcanism,  from  the 
igneous  state  of  their  material — or  according  to  Neptunism, 
from  the  crystalline  nature  of  that  material  wliich  did  not 
admit  of  the  formation  of  organic  life,  since  crystalhsation  and 
organisation  are  oj^posite  poles.  If  we  prosecute  our  enqui- 
ries into  fossils,  we  find  that  in  the  earliest  periods  of  the  earth 
organic  beings  were  much  more  equally  spread,  and  that  the 
difference  of  longitude  and  latitude  exercised  no  influence  either 
on  the  variety  of  types  or  the  number  of  the  individuals.  An- 
other difference  between  the  Fauna  and  Flora  of  the  earliest 
and  the  present  period  of  the  earth  is  the  icant  of  prop)ortion 
between  land  and  aquatic  animals.  "  Not  only  are  land  animals 
wholly  awanting  in  the  older  formations,  but  even  in  the 
later  stratas  of  the  secondary  period  they  occur  very  rarely,  and 
it  is  d.oubtful  whether  there  had  been  any  land  animals  which 
did  not  inhabit  the  water  at  some  stage  of  their  existence." 
Some  wi'iters  have  laid  hold  on  this  circmnstance,  and  largely 
dwelt  on  it  as  corroborating  the  Biblical  narrative,  according  to 
which  aquatic  animals  had  been  created  on  ih.Q  fourth,  and  land 
animals  only  on  the  fifth  day.  But  this  \'iew  is  altogether  falla- 
cious. It  is  indeed  true  that  in  the  different  foi'mations  we 
notice  a  regular  progression  in  the  stages  of  life,  but  not  one  such 
as  that  of  which  the  Bible  speaks.  According  to  its  statements 
the  vegetable  kingdom  was  first  created,  ^d  after  it  the  animal, 
in  the  following  succession,  viz., — aquatic  animals  first,  then 
birds,  and  lastly  land  animals.  But  what  says  geology  ?  "It 
is  indeed  true  that  the  highest  classes  of  animals  and  plants  (the 


§  li.    THE  FLORA  AND  ITAUNA  OF  THE  PRIMEVAL  WORLL).        CSXvii 

Mammalia  and  Dicotyledonous  plants)  only  occur  at  the  latest 
period  of  stratification  ;  but  even  at  tlie  earliest  period  the  four 
great  types  of  the  animal  kingdom  (vertebrata,  articulata, 
mollusca,  and  radiata)  appeared  simultaneously,  and,  so  far  as 
the  three  last  mentioned  classes  are  concerned,  in  their  highest 
grades ;  so  that  we  only  trace  a  progression  in  reference  to  the 
vertebrata.  The  vegetable  kingdom  seems  at  first,  and  during 
the  '  transition'  formations,  to  have  been  much  more  simple, 
being  confined  to  cryptogamic  plants,  and  to  even  few  specimens 
of  these."  The  successive  progression  rather  consists  in  this, 
that  as  earlier  forms  became  extinct,  the  types  become  more  like 
those  which  presently  exist.  The  higher  we  ascend  the  more 
distinct  becomes  this  tendency,  most  of  all  in  the  tertiary  strata: 
there  strange  and  paradox  forms  wholly  disappear,  and  the  phy- 
siognomy bears  a  totally  different  exjDression.  " "  Its  prevailing 
character  is  that  presently  existing ;  its  types,  even  though  in 
part  they  are  no  longer  represented  in  forms  still  existing,  fit 
into  the  general  order  of  the  present  period  of  creation.  They 
are  found  within  more  narrow  limits  than  during  the  preceding 
period,  and  their  types  are  commonly  not  restricted  to  certain 
rocks,  but  found  in  others  also.  The  majority  of  these  animals 
were  warm  blooded.  The  distinction  between  those  animals 
which  live  in  salt  water  and  those  which  live  in  fresh  water,  and 
that  between  land  and  aquatic  animals,  is  thoroughly  carried 
out.  We  find  a  large  number  of  dicotyledonous  plants,  so  that 
the  flora  of  the  tertiary  period  resembles  that  of  the  present 
time."  From  what  we  have  said  above,  it  is  evident  that  all 
tliis  cannot  be  held  to  be  in  any  way  opposed  to  the  statements 
of  the  Bible.  Any  conflict  could  only  arise  from  an  attempt  to 
confound  what  Scripture,  science,  and  reason  proclaim  to  be 
distinct.  Here  also  the  adage  applies :  "  Distingue  tempora 
et  concordahit  Sc7'iptura."  To  have  left  tliis  principle  un- 
heeded is  the  grand  objection  to  most  of  the  attempts  at 
harmonising  the  Bible  and  geology.  Thus  the  celebrated 
Marcel  de  Serres  was  too  well  acquainted  with  geological  facts 
to  attempt  distorting  them.  But  how  grievously  did  he  wrest 
Scriptm-e — despite  his  reverence  for  it — in  order  to  bring  it 
into  accordance  with  geology.  Others,  again,  have  done  simi- 
lar violence  to  science.     The  mistakes  of  ilf.  de  /S'erres  have  been 


CXXVlll  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

repeatedly  exposed  by  Wagner.  But  as  his  method  is  so  fre- 
quently adopted  and  so  much  vaunted,  while  it  offers  such 
occasion  of  scoffing  to  adversaries,  we  will,  in  a  few  sentences, 
refute  this  theory  also.  According  to  de  Sevres  the  "  transition" 
and  secondary  stratifications  with  their  fossil  organisms  were 
formed  during  the  second  half  of  the  third  and  on  the  fifth  day, 
while  the  creation  of  the  organisms  buried  in  the  tertiary  strati- 
fications took  place  on  the  sixth  day.  This  theory  is  based  partly 
on  the  hypothesis  that  the  great  coal-strata  are  of  vegetable 
origin,  and  partly  on  the  fact  that  warm-blooded  land-animals 
appear  only  in  the  tertiary  stratifications,  or,  at  most,  and  in 
rare  and  doubtful  instances,  in  the  latest  secondary  formations. 
But  the  above  hypothesis  has  been  amply  refuted  by  Raumer, 
Wagner,  and  others,  while,  on  the  contrary,  it  has  been  shown 
that  in  the  earlier  formations  only,  a  few  simple  and  poor  speci- 
mens of  plants  occur,  and  that  they  only  appear  in  any  number 
and  in  the  more  developed  form  of  dicotyledonous  plants  in  the 
tertiary  stratifications. — Nor  does  it  require  proof  that  the 
"  transition"  and  stratified  formations  cannot  have  originated  on 
the  fifth  creative  day.  The  trifling  coincidence  that  the  Bible 
and  geology  represent  aquatic  animals  as  having  originated 
before  land  animals  is  of  no  importance  when  placed  alongside 
of  such  great  divergences.  We  read  nothing  of  extinct  creations 
in  the  description  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  days,  but  only  of  such  as 
were  created  for  man  and  intended  to  continue  for  his  use.  Be- 
sides, while  in  the  earliest  formations,  plants  and  animals  appear 
simultaneously,  the  Bible  informs  us  that  one  kingdom  and  one 
class  of  animals  was  called  forth  after  the  other.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  read  the  text  to  see  how  unsatisfactory  is  the  reply 
to  this  objection,  to  the  effect  that  the  Bible  only  referred  to  the 
preponderance  of  one  class  over  the  other.  But  enough  of  this. 
We  abide  by  our  former  views.  There  is  no  disagreement  be- 
tween the  Bible  and  geology.  Geology  does  not  treat  of  the  last 
creation  which  was  designed  for  man,  nor  does  the  Bible  refer  to 
those  organisms  which  were  only  transient  phenomena  belonging 
to  an  embryo- age  of  the  earth. 


1  2.   THE  FLORA  AND  FAUNA  OF  THE  PRIMEVAL  ^VORLD.    CXxix 


§  12.    CONCLUSION. 

We  have,  by  many  and  weighty  arguments,  proved  that  the 
animal  and  vegetable  world,  wliich  lies  buried  in  the  stratified 
formations,  was  not  that  which,  according  to  the  Bible,  was 
created  respectively  on  the  third,  fifth,  and  sixth  days,  and  that 
its  origin  must  belong  to  an  earlier  period.  Yet,  according  to 
Delitzsch,  this  is  a  mere  delusion.  "It  is  pure  delusion,"  he 
observes,  "  to  suppose  that  another  creation  of  animals  had  pre- 
ceded that  which  took  place  on  the  fifth  day."  But  in  view  of 
the  arguments  above  adduced,  we  venture  to  apply  to  himself 
his  own  language,  and  to  say : 

It  is  merely  a  delusion  to  attempt  identifying  the  creation 
of  the 'primeval  fossil  Flora  and  Fauna  with  those  of  the 
third,  ffth,  and  sixth  days,  and  at  the  same  time  to  en- 
deavour harmonising  geology  and  the  Bible. 

Like  this  writer  we  strenuously  assert  that  an  impartial  com- 
parison of  the  results  of  geology  with  the  statements  of  Holy 
Writ,  rightly  understood,  will  prove  that  the  two  harmonise. 
But  we  cannot  for  that  purpose  adopt  any  method  wliich  could 
either  do  violence  to  the  plain  language  of  Scripture,  or  to  the 
well-established  conclusions  of  geology.  But  the  common  mode 
of  harmonising  errs  in  both  respects.     For 

(1).  It  is  evident,  that  Scripture  describes  the  creative  days  as 
natural  and  ordinary  days  (having  evening  and  morning,  hght 
and  darkness),  while  in  order  to  identify  the  geological  with  the 
Biblical  creation,  it  is  necessary  to  represent  them  as  periods  of 
"  Divine  dm^ation,"  each  comprising  thousands,  nay,  perhaps 
"  millions  of  terrestrial  years." 

(2).  It  is  evident,  that  we  read  only  of  one  general  inunda- 
tion within  the  six  creative  days  (Gen.  i.  2 — 10)  to  which,  on 
the  third  day,  bounds  were  assigned  which  were  not  to  be  passed 
till  the  flood.  But  the  above  theory  requires  that  we  should 
suppose  that  a  number  of  inundations  had  taken  place  in  order 
to  account  for  the  numerous  secondary  and  tertiary  stratifica- 
tions which  are  thought  to  have  tal?en  j^lnce  on  the  fifth  and 
sixth  dnvs. 


CXXX  GEOLOGY  AND  THE  BIBLE.. 

(3).  Scripture  plainly  states  that  the  mountains  of  the  earth 
existed,  at  any  rate,  on  the  third  day.  But  this  theory  requires 
us  to  believe  that  the  secondary  and  tertiary  (if  not  the  primary) 
strata  and  rocks  had  been  formed  on  the  fifth  and  sixth  days. 

(4).  Scripture  j9tom?_^  states  that  plants  only,  and  not  animals 
of  any  kind,  were  created  on  the  third  day,  and  animals  only, 
but  not  trees  and  plants,  on  the  fifth  and  sixth  days.  But 
according  to  this  theory,  these  Biblical  are  the  same  as  the  geolo- 
gical periods  of  which  each  has  hoth  its  plants  and  animals. 

(5).  It  is  evident  that  the  Hexaemeron  only  speaks  of  three 
periods  of  organic  creation,  while  geology  recounts  as  many  as 
there  are  stratifications.  Yet  the  above  theory  identifies  the 
Biblical  with  the  geological  creation. 

(6).  Lastly,  it  is  evident  on  the  one  hand  that  the  Flora  and 
Fauna  of  the  primeval  world  had  perished  before  man  appeared, 
and  hence  could  not  have  been  destined  to  continue  along  with 
man  on  the  earth ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  that  according  to  the 
clear  and  unequivocal  statements  of  Scriptm-e  the  Flora  and 
Fauna  created  during  the  six  days  was  created  for  man,  and 
destined  to  continue  on  earth  along  with  him.  Yet  the  above 
theory  confounds  these  two  kinds  of  Flora  and  Fauna. 


I, 

HISTORY 


OLD    COVENANT. 


'-^'Js. 


HS0I*0 

THE   OLD   C 0 V E N A N%,^^ni^ 


§  1.  The  Incarnation  of  God  in  Christ  for  the  salvation  of 
man  constitutes  the  central-point  in  the  history  and  in  the 
developments  of  mankind.  God  became  man  in  order  to  elevate 
mankind,  that  so  they  might  share  with  Himself  in  the  infinite 
fulness  of  Di^^ne  glory,  hoUness,  and  blessedness.  The  fulness 
of  time  (to  TrXi^pcofMa  tov  ^(^povov,  Gal.  iv.  4),  for  which  all  pre- 
clu'istian  history  was  merely  meant  to  prepare,  commences  with 
this  event  and  rests  upon  it.  In  the  preparatory  stage  history 
took  a  twofold  cHrection.  In  the  first,  man's  powers  and  faculties 
were  left  to  follow  their  own  bent,  the  residt  being  the  various 
forms  of  pre-christian  Heathenism  (comp.  §  30  and  following). 
The  second,  wliich  was  continually  guided  and  directed  by 
Divine  influence  and  interposition,  constituted,  in  its  course,  pre- 
christian  Judaism  (comp.  §  33  and  following.)  These  two 
series  of  developments — diflering  not  only  in  the  means  but 
also  in  the  purpose  and  aim  of  their  development — run  side 
by  side,  until,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  they  meet  in  Clu-istianity, 
when  the  pecidiar  residts  and  fruits  of  these  respective  develop- 
ments are  made  subservient  to  its  establishment  and  spread. 
The  separation  of  these  two  series,  and  the  point  where  the 
distinctive  development  of  each  commences,  dates  from  the 
selection  of  one  particular  nation.  From  that  time  onward  every 
revelation  of  God  clusters  around  that  nation,  in  order  to  pre- 
pare it  so  that  ultimately  the  climax  and  the  final  aim  of  all 
revelation,  the  incarnation  of  God,  might  be  attained  in  the 
midst  of  that  people,  and  thence  a  salvation  issue,  adapted  not  onl}^ 
to  tliat  nation  but  also  to  all  other  nations.  The  basis  of  this 
history  is  a  covenant  into  which  God  entered  -with  tJiat  nation, 
and  wliich,  amid  all  the  vicissitudes  and  dangers  attending  every 
human  development.  He  preserved  and  directed  till  its  final  aim 
was  attained.  This  covenant,  whose  object  was  a  salvation  which 
was  to  he  accomplished,  is  designated  the  Old  Covenant,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  Neiv  Covenant  which  God  meide  with  all 

VOL.  I.  A 


2  INTRODUCTION.    (§  2.) 

nations,  on  the  basis  of  a  salvation  wliicli,  in  the  fuhiess  of  tinip, 
had  actually  been  accomplished. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

§  2.  It  is  the  object  of  the  History  of  the  Old  Covenant  to  present 
the  various  stages  of  development  which  that  covenant  has  called 
forth  during  the  period  intervening  between  its  starting-point 
and  that  when  its  final  aim  was  attained.  It  exliibits  these 
stages  in  their  succession  ;  it  points  out  their  origin,  tendencies, 
effects,  and  counter-effects,  and  it  shows  their  organic  connection 
with  each  other  and  with  the  grand  aim  to  which  each  of  them 
subserves.  Further,  it  indicates  all  along  its  course  what  par- 
ticular import  attaches,  and  what  eflfects  are  really  due  to  each 
of  the  two  great  factors  on  whose  co-operation  the  covenant 
depends — ^we  mean  the  Divine  and  the  human  agency — and 
what  relation  they  occupy  to  each  other. 

(1.)  The  two  points  which  constitute  the  boundary  lines  of  the 
history  of  the  Old  Covenant  are  God's  entering  into  covenant 
with  Abraham,  the  ancestor  of  the  chosen  nation,  on  the  one 
hand  ;  and,  on  the  other,  the  objective  exhibition  of  salvation  by 
the  incarnation  of  God  in  Clirist.  But  a  historical  fact,  espe- 
cially if  it  is  the  commencement  of  a  new  era  in  liistory  wliich  is 
to  prove  so  full  of  life  and  so  rich  in  events,  does  not  ajapear 
abruptly  and  without  any  preparation,  like  a  deus  ex  machina. 
It  has  always  its  germ  and  root  in  a  former  period — excepting, 
of  course,  where  itself  was  the  commencement  of  all  tune. 
Hence  our  record  will  have  to  extend  beyond  the  period  when 
God  entered  into  covenant  with  Abraham,  that  so  we  may  con- 
sider that  fact  in  its  organic  connection  with  the  past  and  the 
present,  and  Aaew  it  both  as  a  liistorical  necessity  and  as  an  act 
of  Divine  sovereignty.  Again,  as  history  has  not  only  to  do  with 
the  idea,  which,  so  to  speak,  constitutes  the  subject  matter  and 
the  soul  of  the  development,  but  also  with  the  form  in  which  that 
subject  matter  made  its  outward  appearance,  with  the  body  used 
as  the  vehicle  of  that  soul,  oiu-  narrative  will  not  stop  short  at 
the  period  when  the  great  salvation  was  exhibited,  but  go  be- 
yond it,  and  follow  the  development  of  the  Jewish  state  and 
nation  until  its  final  dissolution. 

Note. — The  designation  of  Ecclesiastical  History  of  the  Old 
Testament,  formerly  given  to  such  a  history,  is  inappropriate, 


RELATION  TO  KACKED  HiaXOKY.    (§3.)  3 

because  it  implies  a  "sdrtual  surrender  of  the  peculiar  idea  attach- 
ing to  the  word  Cliurch. 


RELATION    BETWEEN    THE    HISTORY    OF   THE    OLD    COVENANT    AND 
SACRED  HISTORY  GENERALLY. 

(Compare  Kurtz's  Preliminaries  for  a  new  construction  oi 
sacred  history,  in  the  "  Zeitsclu-.  fiir  luther.  Tlieol.  u.  Kii'che," 
1842,  Part  III.,  and  1843  Part  I.) 

§  3.  The  history  of  the  Old  Covenant  bears  continual  and 
lively  reference  to  the  Divine  plan  of  salvation.  Hence  it  forms 
part  of  sacred  history,  although  only  as  constituting  one  stage  of, 
not  as  smnming  up  that  history.  For,  the  latter  traces  that 
Divine  plan  of  salvation  (Ejjh.  i.  11)  from  its  fii'st  pregnant 
manifestation  in  the  creation  of  the  world  to  its  final  and 
perfect  realisation  in  the  avvTe\eia  T<av  alonvwv  (Heb.  ix.  26), 
following  all  its  forms  and  tendencies,  all  its  developments 
and  contests.  The  liistory  of  the  Old  Covenant  only  foUows 
the  development  of  the  Divine  counsel  till  salvation  is  objec- 
tively presented  in  the  person  of  Christ,  the  God-man ;  sacred 
liistory  traces  this  plan  until,  subjectively  also,  salvation  shall 
have  attained  full  reahsation  in  the  creature.  The  former 
reached  its  goal  when  God  became  incarnate  (o  X070?  crap^ 
iyivero,  koI  icrKrjvoicrev  iv  rjfuv,  John  i.  14),  the  latter  will  only 
close  when  man  shall  be  received  into  full  conununion  with  the 
Di\dne  nature  (yeu6fj,evoi,  6eLa<i  kolvoovo  \  (pvaecc;,  2  Pet.  i.  4,  comp. 
with  John  xvii.,  21 — 24  ;  1  Jolm  iii.  2  ;  Kom.  viii.  17)  ;  in  the 
former  case  the  progress  of  history  tends  towards  the  evcrapKusa-a 
deov,  in  the  latter  (through  the  Ensarkosis  of  God)  toward  the 
€vdecocn<;  dvOpcoirou.  And,  just  as  sacred  history  extends  beyond 
the  goal  of  the  liistory  of  the  Old  Covenant,  so  also  is  its  starting 
point  at  a  period  anterior  to  its  commencement.  Sacred  history 
commences  with  the  creation  of  the  world,  while  the  history  of 
the  Old  Covenant  only  begins  when  God  entered  into  covenant 
with  Abraham.  The  developments  which  preceded  tliis  covenant 
are  merely  introductory  and  preparatory  to  our  history,  and  we 
will  refer  to  them  only  because  and  in  so  far  as  they  are  subser- 
vient to  this  aim.     But  such  is  not  the  relation  of  these  events 

a2 


4  INTRODUCTION.    (§  4.) 

to  sacred  history.  They  lie  not  beyond  but  within  its  provmce ; 
they  constitute  not  its  preparatory  stage,  but  rather  are  that 
infinitely  fertile  commencement  of  sacred  history,  containing  and 
enclosing  in  germ  all  the  various  developments  wliich  shall 
appear  at  its  close,  and  into  which  the  latter  dovetails,  thereby 
forming  a  circle  which  cannot  be  broken. 

(1.)  The  history  of  the  Old  Covenant  constitutes,  therefore,  an 
organic  part  of  sacred  history.  In  its  commencement  it  stands 
connected  with  sacred  history  by  the  reasons  which  called  it  into 
being  ;  at  its  close  by  the  results  of  its  development.  This  also 
constitutes  its  religious  importance.  But  it  may  also  be  viewed 
and  presented  separately,  inasmuch  as  it  is  complete  in  itself, 
and  therefore  intelligible  by  itself ;  for  the  principle  from  which 
it  started,  the  idea  which  it  contained,  and  the  aim  toward  which 
it  tended,  have  been  attained  when  salvation  was  exliibited  in 
Christ ;  and  this  convergence  of  beginning,  middle,  and  end  into 
one  whole  constitutes  its  scientyfic  ivarrant.  Compare  the 
addition  to  §  32. 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

(Comp.  Chr.  A.  Crusius  hypomnemata  ad.  theol.  prophetic.  3 
voll.  Lips.  1764.  J.  Cln-.  Hoffmann,  Weissagimg  und  Erfiil- 
lung  im  alten  u.  neuen  Test.  Nordl.,  1851-44.  Fr.  Delitzsch, 
die  bibl.  proph.  Theol.  etc.,  Leipzig  1845,  p.  172,  fF.  K.  Stier, 
Jesaias  nicht  Pseudo-Jes.  Barm.  1850,  p.  i.-xxxiii.) 

§  4.  If  the  incarnation  of  God  in  Clirist  (as  the  central  and 
turning  point  of  aU  history,  the  condition  and  the  means  of  the 
Entheosis  of  man)  was  the  predetermined  aim  of  the  Old  Cove- 
nant, the  goal  which  it  ultimately  reached,  and  if,  as  the  very 
idea  of  a  covenant  implies,  this  goal  was  to  be  attained  by  the 
co-operation  of  the  two  parties  who  entered  into  covenant,  it 
follows  that  the  history  of  this  covenant  must  have  exhibited  a 
hvofold  activity,  a  di\dne  and  a  human,  and  that  the  whole  of 
its  course  must  be  pervaded  by  a  corresponding  double  series  of 
developments.  As  the  incarnation  of  God  had  not  the  salvation 
of  the  Deity,  but  that  of  man  for  its  aim,  the  Di^'ine  agency  at 
work  in  the  covenant  must  be  viewed  as  a  manifestation  of 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  4,  5.)    5 

Divine  grace.  On  the  other  hand,  as  isalvation  could  not  ha 
forced  upon  man,  who  is  a  free  and  personal  being,  but  coidd 
only  be  received  by  him  in  an  act  of  free  determination,  the 
agency  of  man  at  work  in  this  covenant  must  be  viewed  as  a 
manifestation  of  human  liberty.  Although  at  first  only  in  a 
preparatory  manner,  yet  gradually,  by  continuous  revelations, 
and  by  divesting  Himself  of  His  supra-mundane  form  of  exist- 
ence (the  fiopcf)^]  deou,  Phil.  ii.  G)  ;  by  Theophanies  and  visions  ; 
by  symbolical  representations  of  a  future  incarnation  (as,  for 
example,  in  the  tabernacle,  &c.)  ;  by  communication  of  His 
knowledge,  wisdom,  and  power  to  individual  men  (Heb.  i.  1,  2) 
— the  grace  of  God  prepared  the  way,  until  the  final,  full,  and 
permanent  entrance  into  flesh  took  place,  and  the  whole  human 
nature  was  taken  into  personal  union  with  the  Deity.  On  the 
other  hand,  and  at  the  same  time,  the  people  of  His  choice  were 
trained  for  becoming  capable  of  receiving  the  Divine  nature, 
until  the  proper  place  and  point  were  prepared,  when  the  incar- 
nation of  God  should  take  place  for  the  purpose  of  making  mani- 
fest the  God-man. 

§  5.  These  two  series  of  development  (the  Divine  and  the 
human)  could  not,  however,  proceed  side  by  side  with  each  other 
without  bearing  relation  to  one  another,  thus  touching,  pene- 
trating, and  mutually  conditioning  each  other  in  their  progress. 
Indeed,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  development  of  each  depended 
on  the  living  influence  of  the  other.  As  every  new  stage  in  the 
revelation  of  God  presupposed  a  new  and  a  higher  development 
in  the  free  activity  of  the  covenant-people,  so  the  latter  could 
only  be  the  result  and  the  fruit  of  a  preceding  and  improved 
reception  of  the  elements  of  Divine  revelation.  For,  the  plan 
of  salvation,  and  the  covenant  by  which  it  was  to  be  realised, 
did  not  proceed  from  man  but  from  God — the  hwiuledge  of  the 
aim  of  this  covenant,  and  of  the  means  by  which  it  was  to  be 
attained,  lay  not  with  ma7i  but  with  God  ;  nor  was  it  the  luill  or 
ihQpoiuer  of  man,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  will  and  power  of  God, 
Avhich  alForded  a  sufficient  guarantee  that,  despite  the  disturbances 
and  changes  to  wliich  every  terrestiial  development  is  subject, 
this  goal  should  at  last,  certainly  and  gloriously,  be  reached. 
Hence  it  is  God  who  must  commence  each  cvcle  of  revolutions  : 


G  INTRODUCTION.    (§  5.) 

it  is  He  who  must  initiate  every  new  stage  of  development ;  His 
covenant  activity  must  give  its  impulse,  direction,  boundaries, 
and  correction  to  that  of  man,  in  order  that  the  latter  may  either 
be  or  remain  in  accordance  with  the  purposes  of  the  covenant. 
He  must  revive,  strengthen,  dispose,  and  direct  man.  But  every 
true  activity  presupposes  proper  knoivledge,  proper  volition,  and 
a  sufficient  poiuer  of  execution.  In  all  these  respects,  there- 
fore, human  Uberty  requires,  in  carrying  out  the  purposes  of  the 
covenant,  the  assistance  and  direction  of  Divine  grace,  whose  in- 
fluences are  reaUy  miraculous  (in  the  wider  sense  of  the  term), 
inasmuch  as  they  are  not  implied  in  the  Divine  counsel  of  crea- 
tion, but  only  in  that  of  salvation.  The  Divine  covenant-agency, 
which,  in  its  very  nature,  is  miraculous,  manifests  itself  in  the 
laiv  as  a  revelation  of  the  Divine  ivill,  in  doctrine  or  prophecy  as 
the  revelation  of  Divine  knoivledge,  and  in  extraordinary  general 
leadings,  as  weU  as  in  individual  miraculous  events  (called 
miracles  in  the  narrower  sense  of  the  term),  as  a  revelation  of 
Divine  power.  All  these  manifestations  of  the  Divme  covenant 
operation  are  connected  with,  and  mutually  support  and  ad- 
vance each  other.  For  the  Divine  law  and  Divine  doctrine 
afford  the  means  for  properly  imderstanding,  appreciating,  and 
applying  the  Divine  leadings  and  interferences ;  while  on  the 
other  hand,  the  latter  are  instances,  connecting  points,  explana- 
tions in  fact,  and  individual  verifications,  both  of  the  word  of 
prophecy  and  of  the  law. 

(1.)  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  this  mii'aculous  and 
covenant  agency  of  God,  wliich,  in  the  history  of  the  develop- 
ment of  salvation,  is  so  absolutely  necessary  for  the  successful 
progress  of  free,  human  covenant  agency,  neither  destroys  nor 
interferes  with  human  freedom.  Such,  however,  would  have  been 
the  case,  if,  either  at  the  commencement  or  during  the  progress 
of  history,  it  had  brought  to  bear  upon  it  all  that  Divine  power, 
knowledge,  and  purpose  which  the  covenant  was  to  disclose,  and 
that  without  regard  to  the  progress  of  hiunan  development,  or 
without  reference  to  the  varied  requirements,  capabilities,  and 
circumstances  of  men.  And  because  the  hiunan  development, 
which  the  Divine  activity  is  to  animate  and  to  strengthen,  to 
fructify  and  to  guide,  to  protect  and  to  direct,  is  not  merely 
mechanical  but  organic,  it  was  also  necessary  that  the  Divine 
agency  should  gradually  unfold,  so  that,  keeping  pace  with  the 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  <>,  7.)    7 

human,  it  may  be  capable  of  organically  joining  it  in  all  its 
stages,  and  of  intertwining  with  it. 

§  6.  The  ultimate  aim  and  the  highest  point  of  the  Divine 
covenant  activity,  in  all  its  manifestations,  is  the  incarnation  of 
God  in  Christ.  The  purpose  of  all  Divine  operation  and  co- 
operation in  the  Old  Covenant  is  to  typify  it  and  to  prepare  for 
it.  The  law,  the  word  of  prophecy,  the  general  leadings  of  the 
chosen  people,  and  the  individual  leadings  of  its  more  prominent 
members — in  fine,  every  miraculous  interj)osition  points  towards 
this.  The  law  is  the  mirror  where  the  ideal  of  that  Divine  per- 
fection, which,  since  the  entrance  of  sin,  can  only  be  realised  in 
the  God-man,  is  reflected ;  prophecy  is  the  canvas  on  which  the 
hand  of  the  divinely-enlightened  seer  traces  the  lineaments  of 
the  God-man.  At  first  we  discern  only  a  few  bold  outlines,  but 
every  advancing  stage  in  the  historical  development  adds  new  fea- 
tures and  brings  fresh  colours  for  the  completion  of  this  picture. 
For  while  the  descent  of  the  whole  fulness  of  God  into  hmuan 
nature  becomes  fully  manifest  in  the  incarnation  of  God,  this 
reality  is  also  in  part  exhibited  both  in  the  typical  representations 
and  in  the  preparatory  dispensations  of  a  history,  directed  by  the 
hand  of  God  and  fructified  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  The  whole 
course  of  this  history  implies  a  continual  descending  and  conde- 
scending to  man  on  the  part  of  the  Divine  Being.  The  gener^d 
leadings  of  Israel,  as  well  as  every  individual  miracle,  were  a  pro- 
phetic representation,  and,  as  such,  an  earnest  and  a  guarantee  of 
that  abiding  and  highest  miracle  which  was  to  take  place  in  the 
fuhiess  of  time.  As  the  root  of  the  tree  already  contains  what  will 
develop  into  flower  and  fruit,  so  the  commencement  of  the  cove- 
nant-history comprises  what  tends  to  and  will  issue  in  the  exhi- 
bition of  the  God-man  ;  and  this  tendency  appears  throughout 
the  course  of  that  history  until  the  goal  is  reached.  Hence  the 
whole  of  this  history  is  a  continuous  miracle,  although  this  very 
continuity  conceals  this  characteristic.  But  when  this  tendency 
operates  not  merely  as  a  power  of  life  secretly  active,  but  mani- 
fests itself  in  externally  visible  appearances,  it  produces  events 
which  are  pre-eminently  designated  as  miracles. 

§  7.  Proplu'cy  stands  in  eijually  close  corniection  with  the  dc- 


8  INTRODUCTION.    (§  7.) 

velopment  of  salvation  and  with  its  aim.  It  is  the  purpose  of 
prophecy,  by  communicating  the  knowledge  necessary  for  free 
self-determination,  to  convey  to  human  consciousness  the  same 
truth  which,  in  the  liistory  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  miracle 
presents  as  a  fact,  viz.,  the  abiding  of  the  Divine  jDresence,  not 
merely  over,  but  in  tliis  history,  in  order  to  work  out  and  to  ob- 
tain salvation  in  Clu-ist,  the  God-man.  The  highest  develoj)- 
ment  of  prophecy,  towards  wliich  it  tends,  is  to  impart  a  full 
knowledge  of  salvation,  as  it  has  in  Christ  become  objective  for 
mankind  generally.  Every  prediction,  even  where  the  future 
seems  exclusively  its  subject,  contains  a  doctrine  applicable  to 
present  wants.  The  real  meaning  of  prophecy  is  misunderstood 
if  we  consider  its  main  purpose  to  be,  that  it  affords  proof  of  the 
Divine  origin  of  Cln-istianity,  although  it  is  indeed  true  that  all 
prophecy  attains  its  fulfilment  in  the  gospel.  It  were  indeed  ill 
for  Christianity  if  it  could  not  stand  unless  verified  by  the  fulfil- 
ment of  predictions,  for  in  that  case  prophecy  would  be  degraded 
into  mere  prediction ;  but  worse  stiU  would  it  stand  with  pro- 
phecy, if  it  were  to  attain  its  meaning  and  importance  only  after 
hundreds  or  thousands  of  yea  'S  had  elapsed.  Prophecy  is  meant 
— and  every  other  meaning  is  secondary  and  subordinate  to  this 
— ^to  open  up  a  knowledge  of  the  present,  of  its  relation  and  its 
purport,  and  that  not  merely  of  the  period  to  which  more  imme- 
diately it  was  meant  to  apply,  hut  also  of  every  succeeding  period, 
IN  so  FAR  as  the  latter  shall  have  a  basis  essentially  similar  to  that 
of  tli€  former,  and  hence  similar  requirements  and  a  similar  aim. 

(1.)  Every  age  is  the  product  and  the  result  of  the  past ;  it  also 
contains  the  germ  and  commencement  of  the  futm'e.  To  arrive 
at  ?ifidl  imderstanding  of  its  position  and  task,  it  is  necessary  to 
view  a  period,  on  the  one  hand,  in  the  light  of  the  past,  and,  on 
the  other,  in  that  of  the  future.  It  is  the  pm'port  of  prophecy  to 
afford  such  light.  But  as  the  peculiar  and  the  most  puzzling 
questions  connected  with  any  period  wiU  only  receive  their  solu- 
tion when  the  future  will  unfold  its  hidden  stores,  prophecy 
naturally  is  principally  engaged  in  anticipating  these  disclosures. 
Both,  what  the  present  already  hots,  and  wliat  it  yet  wants,  in 
order  that  it  may  attain  fulness,  prophecy  discloses,  bringing  to 
her  help  the  light  which  a  Divine  knowledge  of  the  future  lends 
her,  in  order  that  the  men  of  that  generation  may,  in  the  exercise 
of  their  freedom,  make  right  use  of  what  they  already  have,  and 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  7,  8.)    Q 

earnestly  strive  to  attain  what  tliey  yet  ivant.  But  prophecy  only 
busies  herself  with  the  future  so  far  as  its  germ  is  contained  in 
the  present,  and  hence  has  already  begun  to  appear  in  outward 
fact.  Not  ever}i;liing  which  is  yet  to  take  place,  nor  every  aspect 
and  form  of  a  futm-e  development,  forms  the  burden  of  successive 
prophecy.  Else  the  latter  would  either  at  all  times  and  under  all 
circumstances  shed  all  the  fulness  of  Divine  knowledge  over  the 
future,  thereby  rather  destroying  than  advancing  history  ;  or  else 
it  would,  subject  to  arbitrary  will  or  to  chance,  reveal  at  random 
one  or  another  tiling — a  process  which  would  at  best  give  it  the 
dubious  distinction  of  a  useless  work  of  supererogation.  But 
this  is  not  the  case.  That  aspect  of  a  future  development  only, 
which  is  already  shadoived  forth  in  present  events,  and  where,  in 
virtue  of  the  principle  of  life  inherent  in  history,  a  tendency  has 
ah'eady  assumed  a  distinct  direction,  and  historically  commenced 
to  assume  an  outward  shape,  forms  the  burden  of  prophecy. 
Externally  and  internally,  in  its  form  and  in  its  substance,  pro- 
phecy shapes  itself,  is  guided  and  regulated,  by  the  wants  and 
the  circumstances  of  the  times.  It  gradually  unfolds  as  history 
progresses ;  but  in  the  character  of  a  Divine  herald  it  overtakes 
history,  hastens  before  it,  and  prepares  its  way ;  like  a  heavenly 
orb,  it  moves  above  the  events  of  the  present  to  shed  over  them 
its  light,  and  to  reveal  their  bearing  on  the  development  of  the 
future,  that  tlius  men  may  learn  whither  these  events  tend,  and 
what  would  or  should  be  their  upshot.  Prophecy,  like  liistory,  in- 
creases during  its  organic  progress ;  but  tliis  growth  is  not  simply 
the  residt  of  quantitative  or  external  additions,  but  takes  place  in 
virtue  of  an  internal  and  divine  germ  of  life  which  had  lain  in  it 
from  the  first,  involving  the  whole  fulness  of  its  distinctive  and 
regular  developments.  This  germ  of  life  is  not  dormant ;  and 
prophecy  unfolds  more  and  more,  until  at  last  the  great  goal  is 
reached  ;  it  can  neither  be  destroyed  nor  set  aside,  because  it  has 
not  an  individual  existence  out  of  and  separate  from  God,  but 
the  continual  and  personal  presence  of  God  in  it  is  both  the  con- 
dition and  tlie  sup})ort  of  its  existence  and  continuance.  It  is 
indeed  true  that  the  changes  and  disturbances  in  tlie  regular 
progress  of  liistoric  development,  arising  from  a  misapplication 
of  man's  freedom,  also  modify  the  progress,  the  form,  and  the 
subject-matter  of  prophecy.  But  this  influence  does  not  extend 
to  what  is  properly  the  kernel  of  prophecy.  The  latter  remainb 
the  same  amid  all  the  changes  of  history,  however  its  non-essential 
and  accidental  forms  and  embodiment  may  be  affected  by  such 
circumstances. 


'.   §  8.  As  in  its  organic  progress  Old  Testament  pi^ophecy  is  itself 
hisfnry.  so,  on  thf*  other  hand,  also  is  the  history  of  tlie  Old 


10  INTIIOUUCTION.    (§  8.) 

Covenant  itself^rqpAe^/c,bot]i  because  it  foreshadows,  and  because 
it  stands  in  living  and  continuous  relation  to,  tlie  plan  of  salvation 
about  to  be  manifested.  The  former  then  is  luord-prophecy,  the 
latter  fact-prophecy  (by  words  and  by  facts)  ;  again,  the  former 
is  ideal,  the  latter  actual  history.  Prophecy  sheds  light  on  the 
facts  and  circumstances  of  the  present,  by  imparting  unto  it  the 
idea  of  the  future,  and  that  by  showing  both  what  and  how  much 
it  already  has,  and  wherein  present  events  still  fall  short  of  the 
fulness  of  the  idea.  Similarly  is  the  present  also  prophetic  in  its 
relation  to  the  future,  both  in  virtue  of  what  it  already  has  as 
the  consequence  of  a  past  development,  of  what  it  still  wants,  in 
order  perfectly  to  embody  the  idea,  and  of  what  it  therefore  may 
yet  expect  to  derive  from  a  future  development.  But  let  it  not 
be  supposed  that  what  it  ivants  is  antagonistic  to  what  it  already 
has;  the  one  is  rather  the  fiu-ther  formation  and  the  complement, 
the  perfect  unfolding  of  the  other.  For  as  the  development  is 
organic,  and  from  the  first  includes  in  germ  all  the  fulness  which  is 
afterwards  to  be  unfolded,  the  present  never  really  wants  anything 
which  it  does  not  already  possess  in  potency  as  germ  or  commence- 
ment, and  the  want  is  never  absolute.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
during  the  whole  course  of  its  development,  it  never  has  an3rthing 
to  which  something  were  not  still  awanting,  and  which  is  not 
both  capable  of  and  requiring  further  unfolding.  Possession 
and  want,  enjoyment  and  requirement,  fulfilment  and  prophecy, 
always  presuppose  and  meet  each  other,  until  at  the  close  of  the 
development  these  two  antagonistic  poles  are  perfectly  reconciled, 
and  are  in  Clirist  joined  into  an  eternal  and  satisfactory  union 
and  fulness.  With  possession  wants  also  increase.  The  more 
history  becomes  a  fulfilment  of  prophecy  the  more  intense  grows 
the  expectation  of  the  future,  until  all  hope  and  expectation  are 
satisfied,  and  met  in  the  highest  and  final  fulfilment.  As  the 
covenant  people  under  the  Divine  training  and  guidance  ad- 
vances, and  what  had  at  first  been  only  in  germ  unfolds  and 
spreads,  the  consciousness  of  what  is  yet  awanting  will  also 
deepen  and  extend,  just  as  science  extends  her  boundaries,  and 
]ier  domain  appears  larger  the  more  intimately  the  mind  of  the 
inquirer  becomes  acquainted  with  it.  But  prophecy  alone  fully 
discloses  the  proper  and  real  relationship  between  this  possession 
and  this  want,  between  this  fulfilment  and  this  expectation,  and 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  8.)    11 

that  the  more  certainly  as  the  eubjoct  liere  in  question  refers 
not  to  the  results  of  merely  liunian,  Lut  of  both  Divine  and 
human  agency.  Without  prophecy  an  age  would  at  best  only 
have  an  indefinite  and  uncertain  presentiment — a  kind  of  divi- 
nation— which,  however  it  might  form  a  point  of  connection 
with,  or  render  capable  for  receiving  prophecy,  would  still  re- 
quire the  latter,  in  order  to  be  elevated  and  confirmed  to  the 
certainty  of  helieving.  Just  as  the  history  of  fvojiliecy  can,  in 
its  organic  progress,  only  develop  in  connection  with  actual 
history,  because  springing  from  it,  so  also  does  the  prophecy  of 
history  require  the  light  of  prophecy  to  unfold  its  buds. 

(1.)  All  liistory  which  springs  from  a  living  germ,  is  animated 
and  supported  by  an  inward  tendency  after  life,  and  finally 
attains,  by  action  and  re-action,  by  evolutions  and  revolutions, 
that  goal  for  which  it  was  fitted  and  destined  and  towards  wliich 
it  had  consciously  or  unconsciously  tended,  must  bear  a  typical 
character,  so  that,  during  the  progress  of  that  history,  the  goal 
will  always  become  more  apparent  and  distinct.  The  typical 
character  of  history  depends  on  the  living  relationship  between 
its  development  and  the  idea  which  forms  its  soul,  and  toward 
the  perfect  exliibition  of  wliich  it  tends.  The  idea  ever  strives 
to  assiune  outward  form — the  soul  seeks  a  befitting  body.  If 
the  tendency  after  life  which  animates  a  history  is  so  strong 
that,  despite  all  difficulties,  it  succeeds  in  ultimately  attaining  its 
end,  we  may  expect  that,  even  during  the  com-se  of  its  develop- 
ment, it  will  be  able  to  bring  certain  prominent  points  of  its 
activity  to  Hght,  which,  in  that  peculiar  stage  of  the  develop- 
ment, will  form  suitable  embodiments  of  the  sartie  idea,  that 
becomes  fully  manifest  when  the  liighest  stage  is  reached,  and 
which,  both  as  to  the  mode  of  their  appearance  and  their  effects, 
may  be  regarded  as  anticipatory  representations  (t}^ies)  of  the 
future.  But  tliis  tjqiical  character  does  not  always  clearly  appear 
in  secidar  liistory,  because  its  development  is  merely  the  growth 
of  natm-e,  without  the  regTdating  co-operation  of  Divine  deed 
and  Divine  instruction ;  fi^r,  Avliile  God  allows  the  nations  to 
walk  in  their  own  ways,  His  wisdom  and  power  do  not  become 
a  constitutive  factor  in  their  history,  but  are  merely  the  regu- 
lative factor  OVER  it.  He  merely  superintends  their  history, 
in  order  to  make  it  subservient  to  His  plan  of  government  and 
salvation  ;  He  does  not  take  part  in  it  as  God  incarnate,  to  effect 
by  it  His  plan  of  salvation.  On  the  other  hand,  the  t}^)ical 
character  of  sacrecl  history  ajipcars  prominently,  continuously, 
markedly,  in  decided  outlines,  and  in  a  manner  patent  not  oni\- 


12  INTRODUCTION.    (§  8,  9.) 

to  posterity,  but,  by  the  assistance  of  prophecy,  to  cotemporaries 
also,  and  that  in  measure  as  their  spiritual  capacity  enables  them 
to  perceive  and  receive  it. 

The  ordinary  events  recorded  in  the  history  of  the  Old  Cove- 
nant are  of  a  threefold  character.  They  either  proceed  from 
Divine  grace,  or  from  human  liberty,  or  from  the  joint  operation 
of  these  two.  All  three  point  towards  the  chmax  of  all  history, 
even  the  manifestation  of  Christ,  in  whom  the  Divine  and  the 
human  natm'e  are  joined  in  a  personal  union — constituting  the 
person  of  the  Grod-man.  Hence  all  the  three  are  anticipatory 
representations  of  a  coming  fulness.  Whenever  in  the  Old 
Testament  God  manifests  himself  in  a  form  perceptible  by  the 
senses,  or  in  a  vision  beyond  the  reach  of  the  senses,  or  in  a 
symbol  adapted  to  the  senses  ;  whenever  also  He  speaks  or  acts 
without  making  use  of  the  medium  of  hmnan  organs — we  behold 
a  partial  anticipatory  exhibition  of  the  Divinity  of  Christ.  On 
the  other  hand,  whenever  any  of  the  heroes  of  the  faith — whose 
spiritual  history  may  be  traced  to  peculiarly  Israelitish  training, 
i.e.  "wdthin  the  moral  sj^here  of  the  revealed  law,  and  to  such  a 
knowledge  of  salvation  as  had  historically  been  attained  by  the 
nation — in  the  exercise  of  his  freedom  so  shapes  his  course  as  to 
become  a  suitable  instrument  for  man's  covenant-activity,  we 
behold  in  liim  a  partial  anticijDatory  representation  of  the  human 
nature  and  activity  of  Chi'ist.  Again,  wherever  such  an  one 
endowed  with  new  powers,  with  Divine  wisdom  or  might,  and 
clothed  with  Divine  authority,  becomes  at  the  same  time  a 
medium  of  new  covenant  operations  on  the  part  of  Grod,  he 
becomes,  in  his  own  sphere  and  according  to  his  capacity,  for  the 
men  of  his  time,  an  anticipatory  representation  of  Him  who,  as 
God-man,  completed,  in  the  fidness  of  time,  both  the  Divine  and 
the  himian  covenant-activity,  and  exliibited  the  aim  of  the 
covenant  in  working  out  salvation  for  all  mankind.  It  needs  no 
further  argument  to  show  that  events,  institutions,  and  dispen- 
sations, as  the  products  of  personal  activity,  exliibit  the  same 
characteristics  of  being  typical  as  the  will  from  Avhich  they 
proceeded. 

§  9.  If  we  have  formerly  spoken  of  the  history  of  the  Old 
Covenant  as  resulting  from  the  co-operation  of  Divine  and  human 
activity,  and  have  learned  that  those  miracles  and  prophecies  in 
which  the  Divine  agency  appeared  were  necessary  as  co-efficients 
of,  and  in  order  to  support  man's  covenant-activity,  we  merely 
meant  to  shew  that  history  could  not  be  without  either  miracles 
or  prophecy  until  the  great  goal  was  reached,  but  not  that  every 
age  and  every  historical  development  required  miracles.      On 


HOLY  SCRIPTURE.    (§  10.)  13 

the  contrary,  as  the  covenant-operations  of  God  are  also  intended 
for  the  training  of  man,  shorter  or  longer  intervals  may  occur 
during  which  Divine  wisdom  makes  miracles  and  prophecy  to 
cease  for  a  time,  that  human  activity  may  prosecute  its  peculiar 
task  alone,  and  only  supported  by  the  experiences  and  results 
of  a  former  Divine  guidance  and  co-operation.  Hence,  in  this 
case  also,  the  Divine  element  is  not  wanting  in  the  development ; 
it  has  only  become  mediate,  instead  of  being,  as  formerly, 
immediate. 


HOLY  SCRIPTURE. 

§  10.  It  is  the  distinctive  characteristic  of  the  history  of  the 
Old  Covenant,  that  in  all  the  grand  stages  of  its  development  it 
is  sacred  history.  Because,  and  in  so  far  as  it  is  such,  its  au- 
thentic documents  and  sources  also  must  be  sacred ;  for  it  were 
equally  foolish  and  vain  to  inscribe  or  impress  the  character  of 
sacredness  to  a  science  if  the  same  term  did  not  apply  to  its 
sources.  Just  as  history  becomes  sacred  by  tliis,  that  the  hmnan 
development  is  regulated  and  directed  by  the  continuous  presence 
of  God  in  it,  so  the  channels  through  which  its  knowledge  is 
conveyed  become  sacred  by  the  fact  that  divine  knoivledge  of 
this  development  continually  regulates,  directs,  and  is  present 
with  the  himian  cognition  of  it.  For  the  Divine  aspect  of  sacred 
history  can  only  be  clearly  and  definitely  recognised  by  means  of 
a  Divine  revelation. 

Hence  the  most  important  and  the  primary  channel  of  infor- 
mation for  this  science  is  the  collection  of  sacred  writings  com- 
prised in  the  Old  Testament  canon  (comp.  §  14),  as  its  liistory, 
doctrine,  and  prophecy  foi-nish  us  with  the  material  of  by  far  the 
largest  and  fullest  part  of  our  history.  They  are  the  more  im- 
portant, as  for  that  period  our  information  is  almost  exclusively 
derived  from  them.  However,  the  sacred  wTitings  of  the  New 
Testament  come  also  partly  within  our  range,  as  the  first  stage 
of  the  New  Testament  development  constitutes  at  the  same  time 
the  close  of  that  of  the  Old  Testament. 

(1.)  As  the  history  of  the  Old  Covenant  numbered,  even  in 


14  INTRODUCTIOX.    (§  10,  11.) 

regard  of  its  internal  development,  stages,  and  among  them  at  least 
one  of  considerable  duration  and  importance,  when  the  Lord  pur- 
posely ceased  from  taking  active  part  in  the  development,  we  are 
of  course  obliged,  in  the  description  of  these  periods,  to  have  re- 
course to  sources  of  information  wliich  possess  no  other  guarantee 
for  their  accuracy  and  rehableness  than  that  of  human  enquiry 
and  criticism. 

Lastly,  the  liistory  of  wliich  we  treat  is  also  variously  connected 
with  that  of  foreign  nations  and  circumstances.  But  as  every 
science,  so  the  scientific  treatment  of  the  liistory  of  the  Old 
Covenant  requires  to  commimicate  lively  information  on  cognate 
branches  of  information.  In  this  respect,  therefore,  the  sources 
of  the  history  of  foreign  nations  are  also  of  importance  in  om* 
history. 

§  11.  As  the  facts  of  wliich  they  treat,  so  the  sacred  writings 
themselves  exliibit  the  marks  of  Divine  and  of  human  causation, 
and  that  not  separate  from,  but  in  living  union  with  each  other. 
In  the  one  case  Divine  agency  is  present  with  the  human  de- 
velopment, in  the  other  Divine  knowledge  of  tliis  development  is 
present  with  limnan  cognition  of  it.  The  reason  of  it  is ,  that  these 
writings  proceed  from  the  same  Divinely-human  sphere  of  life, 
and  are  not  only  faithful  witnesses  and  monuments  of  the  history 
of  the  past  and  present,  but  also  severally  become  the  liAang 
commencement  and  the  vehicles  of  farther  developments.  But 
this  coimnunication  of  Divine  knowledge  to  human  cognition 
must  be  conceived  in  one  of  two  ways.  Either  that  which  gene- 
rally lies  beyond  human  experience  or  human  knowledge  is  im- 
pressed on  the  soul  of  man  in  prophetic  vision,  a  sense  of  need, 
and  the  possession  of  a  certain  amount  of  knowledge,  forming 
points  of  connection,  or  else  where  that  which  took  place  had 
been  handed  down  in  human  tradition,  the  natural  faculties  of 
man,  by  which  he  examines  and  distinguishes  what  is  true  and 
what  is  false,  are  quickened  by  the  Spuit  of  Grod,  and  raised  to 
relative  certainty,  fulness,  and  depth  of  enquiry,  {i.e.,  to  such 
certainty  as  corresponds  both  with  the  objective  aim  in  \iew  at 
the  time,  and  with  the  subjective  preparation  that  had  taken 
place.)  It  is  not  by  any  means  intended  that  tliis  should  set 
aside  or  render  unnecessary  human  thinking,  enquiry,  study, 
collating,  or  sifting  of  evidence — in  general,  mental  ap^^lication 
on  the  part  of  man.     On  the  contrary,  it  is  only  intended  to 


HOLY  SCRIl'TUIlE.    (§11.)  lo 

purify,  to  quicken,  and  to  sanctify  such  endeavours.  Besides, 
neitlier  are  the  limits  of  develoj)ment,  arising  from  the  circum- 
stances of  an  age  or  of  the  individual,  to  be  set  aside.  Only  tlio 
measure  and  fuhiess  of  cognition  possible  within  these  hmits  are 
to  be  brouglit  to  Hglit.  On  the  otlier  hand,  the  aid  derived  from 
natural  talent  and  preparation,  personal  culture  and  position  in 
life,  is  neither  neglected  nor  left  unemployed  in  the  search  after 
and  in  the  exposition  of  the  truth.  It  v\'ill  reachly  be  understood, 
that  thereby  the  human  mind,  so  far  from  being  cramped  in  the 
exercise  of  its  freedom,  or  in  the  display  of  its  peculiarities  and 
its  activity,  is  rather  enlarged,  and  attains  its  proper  strength, 
fulness,  and  purity.  Historical  and  religious  truth  thus  obtained, 
will  indeed  share  the  one-sidedness,  imperfection,  and  defective 
perception  and  representation  due  on  the  one  liand  to  the  cir- 
cumstances and  the  mental  idiosyncrasy  of  the  enquirer,  and  on 
the  other,  to  the  law  according  to  wliich  we  trace  a  gradual  pro- 
gress in  the  general  development  of  tlie  Divine  in  time,  until  the 
last  and  highest  aim  of  liistory  is  reached.  But  it  will  also  be 
free  from  all  positive  error,  which  miglit  endanger  or  disturb  the 
peculiar  objects  to  be  attained  by  the  Divine  co-operation  in  the 
composition  of  these  wi-itings,  either  in  their  bearing  on  practical 
religion,  or  on  religious  information.  The  object  which  these 
wi'itings  is  to  serve  may  briefly  be  stated  as  intended  to  present 
in  these  sacred  documents  a  faithful  historical  account  of  God's 
ways  of  salvation  with  reference  to  man,  and  to  serve  as  a  power- 
ful incitement  to  man  to  fall  in  with  them. 

(1.)  As  holy  writ  has  this  twofold  aspect,  the  human  and  the 
Divine,  and  as  the  human  is  not  absorbed  by  the  Divine,  but 
rather  embodies,  presents  it  in  outward  appearance,  and  so  pre- 
serves it,  holy  writ  has,  as  every  human  concern,  also  a  history 
wliich  may  become  object  of  enquiry  and  examination.  Besides, 
we  are  entitled  to  seek  evidence  as  regards  its  human  authen- 
ticity, integrity,  and  trustworthiness.  Its  origin  and  composition 
both  in  respect  of  time,  place,  and  of  persons,  the  stage  of 
civilisation  attained  at  the  time  and  by  the  persons  to  whom  its 
composition  is  ascribed,  the  resources  of  human  investigation 
upon  which  it  is  based,  the  history  of  its  preservation  and 
handing  down,  both  in  its  external  and  internal  phases,  &c. — 
are  all  subjects  of  historical  investigation  and  of  critical  examina- 
tion.     It  is,  indeed,  true  that  the  spirit  wliich  the  canonical 


16  INTRODUCTION.    (§11,  12.) 

writings  breathe,  and  which,  by  every  person  capable  of  receiving 
it,  is  felt  to  be  Divine,  constitutes  the  internal  guarantee  for 
their  sacreduess  and  credibility.  Piety  requires  none  other  than 
tliis  subjective  and  internal  evidence,  but  science  demands  also 
external  and  objective  proofs.  Piety  feels  no  peculiar  interest 
in  the  demands  and  the  results  of  criticism  ;  what  Holy  Scripture 
has  presented  to  it,  the  results  of  criticism  can  neither  render 
dubious  nor  take  away  ;  it  only  seeks  and  wishes  that  what  holy 
wi'it  contains  should  become  matter  of  personal  experience  in 
the  religious  life,  and  it  obtains  this  when  conscious  need  of 
salvation  discovers  in  Scripture  fuU  satisfaction  and  spiritual 
support.  But  religious  science  demands  the  evidence  necessary 
to  knowledge,  and  the  satisfaction  of  intellectual  requirements  ; 
it  also  looks  for  miity,  for  organic  connection  and  harmonic  agree- 
ment between  all  religious  knowledge  and  all  other  general  know- 
ledge wliich  may  already  have  been  attained  or  mayyet  be  attained. 
In  tliis  respect  it  is  not  sufficient  to  perceive  the  results  and 
fruits  of  a  religious  event,  or  to  gather  from  experience  their 
reality.  Science  also  seeks  to  know  the  origin  and  progress  of 
such  an  event,  and  the  organic  unity  of  its  commencement, 
middle,  and  end. 

The  primary  object  of  scientific  investigation  is  the  human 
element  in  holy  writ,  because  the  latter  is  the  medium  of 
the  Divine  element,  which  can  only  be  apprehended  in  tliis 
form.  But  if  what  is  human  in  holy  wi-it  has  been  proved  and 
placed  on  a  firm  basis,  then  science  will  have  to  render  imphcit 
homage  to  the  Divine,  and,  under  such  circiunstances,  faitli  will 
be  expected  from  her  no  less  than  from  mere  piety.  But  faith  is 
demanded  by  science  only  after  the  human  element  of  holy  writ 
has  been  shewn  to  be  the  vehicle  of  the  Divine,  and  has,  as  such, 
stood  all  the  ordeals  of  enquiry  and  examination. 


OLD  TESTAMENT  REVELATION. 

§  12.  The  idea  of  revelation  includes,  in  its  widest  sense,  every 
manifestation  of  the  Divine  Being,  will  and  knowledge  toioards, 
in,  and /or  His  creatures.  In  this  sense,  revelation  commenced 
with  thQf,rst  act  by  which  the  creature  was  caUed  into  existence. 
Connected  with  the  creative,  we  have  then  the  preservative 
agency  of  God,  which  sustains  the  powers  and  facidties  that  had 
been  granted  to  the  creature  in  creation  ;  and  His  government  of 
the  world,  which  is  carried  on  superior  to  the  free  development 
of  the  creature,  watches  over  it  in  the  exercise  of  sovereignty  and 


OLD  TESTAMENT  REVELATION.  (§12.)  17 

of  judgment,  overrules  and  controls  it.  Tliis  threefold  direction 
of  Divine  manifestation  is  really  one,  and  only  exhibits  diiferent 
phases  of  one  and  the  same  relation  between  God  and  the  crea- 
ture, of  which  it  indicates  the  commencement,  the  middle,  and 
the  end.  By  calling  the  creature  into  existence,  and  bestow- 
ing upon  it  the  powers  and  faculties  necessary  to  its  development, 
He  at  the  same  time  gave  it  a  right  and  a  claun  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  these  powers  and  faculties ;  and  in  setting  before  the 
creature  an  end  which,  in  its  free  activity,  it  should  attain,  but 
which,  by  an  abuse  of  its  liberty,  it  may  miss  or  j)ervert,  it  also 
became  necessary,  for  the  sake  of  His  own  purposes,  that,  as 
sovereign  Lord  and  Judge,  He  should  watch  over  this  free  de- 
velopment, keep  it  within  proper  bounds,  and  dii'ect  it  towards 
its  peculiar  aim.  Thus,  even  creation  unplies  and  demands 
the  preservation  and  the  government  of  the  world ;  but  then 
these  two  fuUy  meet  all  the  requirements  involved  in  the  re- 
lationship into  wliich  God  had,  by  creation,  entered  with  the 
world.  From  the  stand-point  of  creation,  no  other  interposition 
or  manifestation  of  the  Deity  could  have  been  demanded.  But 
God  has,  in  the  exercise  of  free  grace^  entered  into  another  re- 
lationship with  man,  difiterent  from  that  of  merely  the  Creator 
towards  the  creature.  In  virtue  of  His  eternal  counsel  of  grace, 
He  appeared  from  the  commencement  as  the  Guardian  and 
Guide  of  man,  and  as  such  He  condescended  and  adapted  Him- 
self to  the  wants  of  man's  childhood — He,  as  it  were,  grows  with 
him,  and  so  draws  him  to  Himself.  Wlien,  by  an  abuse  of  his 
liberty,  man  had  fallen  into  sin  and  misery.  He  opened  \\\)  before 
liim  the  salvation  provided  in  that  council,  and  continued  it,  by 
a  progi'essive  communication  of  Himself,  and  condescending  to 
man,  until  its  fulness  was  attained  by  the  incarnation  of  God. 
Tliis  Divine  manifestation,  in  virtue  of  which  He  is  not  merely 
enthroned  above  history  as  the  Ruler  of  the  world,  but  is  also 
present  in  it,  enters  into  it,  works  in  it,  and,  during  its  progress, 
more  and  more  unfolds  Himself,  by  increasingly  communicating 
of  Himself,  we  designate  Revelation,  in  the  narrower  sense  of 
the  term.  When  heathenism  renounced  the  ways  of  God,  and 
entered  upon  its  own  ways,  it  turned  aside  fiom  this  Divine 
manifestation.  But  the  calling  and  election  of  Abraham  and  of 
his  seed,  furnished  not  only  a  fresh  object  for  its  exercise,  but 
was  itself  a  decisive  progress  in  its  development. 

VOL.  L  B 


18  INTRODUCTION.    (§  13.) 

§  13.  The  difference  and  the  contrast  obtaining  between  tlie 
two  aspects  of  Divine  revelation — that  of  creation,  preservation, 
and  government,  and  that  of  preparing  and  working  out  salva- 
tion— is  of  essential  importance  on  the  stand-point  of  the  Old 
Testament,  and  deeply  impressed  on  its  religions  consciousness, 
since  the  selection  of  Israel  to  be  the  instrument  of  the  Divine 
purposes  of  salvation,  and  the  opposition  to  heathenism  which 
this  selection  involved,  formed  the  central  point  of  that  con- 
sciousness. So  much  was  the  above  difference  felt,  that  it  found 
expression  even  in  the  employment  of  a  corresponding  difference 
in  the  names  of  the  Deity.  Thus  the  name  Elohim  applies  to 
the  former,  that  of  Jehovah  to  the  latter  sphere  of  liis  operations. 
The  expression  Elohim  applies  to  God  as  being  the  fulness  and 
the  source  of  all  Hfe,  as  He  who  bears  witliin  Himself  the 
potencies  of  all  life  and  of  every  development,  and  who,  as  Crea- 
tor, displays  them,  by  causing  those  commencements  of  history 
which  are  so  rich  in  consequences.  On  the  other  hand,  Jehovah 
is  the  Grod  of  development,  who  Himself  enters  into  the  develop- 
ment, condescends  into  it,  embodies  Himself  and  co-operates  in 
it,  in  order  to  conduct  it  safely  to  its  destined  goal.  As  Elohim, 
God  is  also  the  God  of  the  heathen ;  for  every  manifestation  of 
the  Deity  in  heathenism  proceeds  from  Elohim,  and  all  real  and 
genuine  consciousness  of  the  Deity  in  heathenism  must  be  traced 
to  Elohim.  But  as  Jehovah  He  is  merely  the  God  of  Israel ; 
for  heathenism,  which  has  strayed  from  the  development  sup- 
ported and  directed  by  Jehovah,  has  no  part  in  Jehovah.  But 
it  must  not  be  thought  that  Elohim  is  as  exclusively  the  God  of 
the  heathen  as  Jehovah  is  that  of  Israel.  On  the  contrary,  God 
manifests  Himself  and  works  in  the  history  of  Israel,  not  only  as 
Jehovah,  but  also  distinctively  in  His  character  as  Elohim.  For 
Israel's  history,  as  that  of  heathenism,  implies  and  requires,  in 
general,  the  preservation  and  the  government  of  the  world  on 
the  part  of  God.  Besides,  the  preparation  and  the  development 
of  salvation  by  Jehovah,  continually  requires,  up  to  the  period 
of  its  final  completion,  creative  agency,  to  pro^dde  the  germs  of 
that  development  which  Jehovah  conducts  to  its  goal. 

(1.)  On  the  names  of  God,  comp.  Hengstenhergs  Authenticity 
of  the  Pentateuch,  vol.  i.,  p.  213  (Clark),  and  following; 
Drechsler,  Unity  and  Authent.  of  Gen. ;  Hdvernick,  Introd. 
p.  57  (Clark),  and  foUowing,  and  the  Theolog.  of  the  0.  T., 


OLD  TESTAMENT  REVELATION.    (§13.)  19 

by  the  same  author,  p.  37,  and  following ;  Tuch,  Comm.  xxxiii., 
and  following  ;  Welfe,  the  Post-Mosaic  in  the  Pent.,  p.  84, 
and  foUowing;  Steudel,  Theol.  of  the  0.  T.,  p.  139,  and  fol- 
loAving  ;  Beck,  Christian  Dogm.,  i.  51,  and  following  ;  3T. 
Baumgarten,  Comm.  i.,  p.  30,  and  following;  Belifzsch,  Bihl. 
and  Proph.  Theol.,  p.  120,  and  following  ;  Delitzsch,  Sym- 
bolfe  ad  Psalm,  illustr.,  p.  29,  and  following  ;  Expos,  of  Gen., 
by  the  same  author,  p.  22,  and  following ;  Kurtz's  Unity  of  Gen., 
p.  Ixiii.,  and  following,  and  passim;  C.  Keil  on  the  Names  of 
God  in  the  Pent.,  in  the  Lutheran  Annals,  1851,  part  ii. ;  Hof- 
mann's  Script.  Demonstr.  i.,  p.  74,  and  following.  Even  a  cur- 
sory inspection  of  the  passages,  and  the  manner  in  which  these 
two  names  of  God  are  respectively  used  in  the  Old  Testament, 
win  prove,  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt,  that  their  selection 
depends  on  a  difference  of  ideas  attaching  to  them.  The  first 
and  most  general  inference,  in  this  respect,  is  that  niTT^  i^  ^^i^- 
tinctively  Israel's  name  for  the  Deity.  God  manifests  Himself 
as  Jehovah  only  in  and  fo  Israel,  as  being  the  nation  chosen  by 
Him  from  among  all  others,  separated  from  the  heathen,  and 
sanctified  by  its  calling  and  destination,  by  the  law  and  worship 
given  to  it.  On  the  other  hand.  He  is  only  recognised  and 
worshipped  by  Israel  as  Jehovah.  To  all  other  nations,  God 
is  only  □"^n^{^)  ii'*t  niiT^  >  ^^^^^  ^^  generally  used  is  the  name 
Elohim,  tliat  it  is  not  merely  employed  to  indicate  what  is  true 
and  genuine  in  the  consciousness  of  the  heathen  aljout  God,  but 
also,  in  general,  whatever  is  Divine,  even  when  it  is  viewed  in  a 
perverted  and  wrong  manner. 

But  God  is  OTT^i^  ^^^  fo^  ^^6  heathen  only,  but  also  for 
Israel ;  God  works  and  reveals  Himself  in  Israel  not  only  as 
pT^n'^,  but  also  and  as  frequently  in  His  character  of  □'^n^i^- 
This  observation  will  lead  first  of  all  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
name  Eloliim,  in  connection  Avith  Israel,  indicates  every  general 
activity  of  God  which  manifests  itself  amongst  the  heathen  as 
weU  as  among  Israel ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  Israelites 
designated  and  worshipped  God  as  Elohim  whenever  such  general 
activity  of  God,  or  anything  else  appeared,  which  had  a  place  in 
the  consciousness  of  God  common  to  Israel  and  to  the  heathen. 
Put  this  view  does  not  suffice  to  account  f  )r  every  occasion  on 
wliich  the  name  c'^H^h^  occurs.  We  meet  the  form  Elohim  even 
where  we  read  of  leadings  and  manifeslations  of  the  Deity  dis- 
tinctively Israelitish.  In  that  most  important  treatise  of  Heng- 
stenbery  (on  the  names  of  the  Deity),  to  which  we  have  above 
referred,  this  critic  has  attempted  to  solve  this  difficulty,  by  as- 
suming tliat  Elohim  indicated  a  lower,  and  Jehovah  a  higher, 
stage  in  the  consciousness  or  in  the  manifestation  of  the  Deity. 
He  maintains  that  during  the  interval  l)etween  Genesis  i.  and 

b2 


20  INTRODUCTION.    (§  13.) 

Exodus  vi.,  i.e.,  during  the  period  between  the  creation  and  that 
of  the  full  sanction  of  the  theocratic  covenant  on  Sinai,  OTIS' i^ 
becomes  mn'''  ^^^^  ^^^  ^^^  fi^Uy  appeared  as  such  only  on  Sinai. 
At  every  former  period,  it  was  only  relatively,  not  absolutely, 
that  Eloliim  became  Jehovah.  It  is  maintained  that  during  the 
developments  intervening  between  these  two  tennini,  Grod  was 
designated  XT\TV  ^^1  "^  ^^  f^i'  ^^  "i  relation  to  previous  mani- 
festations of  the  Deity  He  had  manifested  Himself  as  nin''^  *^^ 
in  so  far  as  the  Divine  manifestation  thus  vouchsafed  was  higher 
than  the  previous,  and  approached  more  closely  to  that  of 
Jehovah,  absolutely  so  called.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  also 
speaking  relatively  that  He  was  designated  Elohim,  viz.,  in  re- 
ference to  higher  and  more  perfect  manifestations  yet  future,  that 
thus  the  consciousness  might  be  awakened  and  maintained,  that 
liigher  and  more  glorious  manifestations  of  God  as  Jehovah  were 
yet  to  be  expected,  in  comparison  with  wliich  the  manifestation 
then  taking  place  was  lower,  and  only  that  of  Elohim.  But 
there  are  many  things  in  the  book  of  Genesis  which  cannot  be 
reconciled  with  tliis  theory,  however  ingenious  and  consistently 
carried  out.  Were  it  correct,  we  should  have  expected  that 
wherever  and  whenever,  at  any  stage  of  development,  any  new 
thing  made  its  appearance — whenever  the  idea  of  gradual  un- 
folchng  to  a  perfect  theocracy  gained  new  ground — whenever  the 
tendency  toward  this  goal  embodied  itself  in  a  new  shape — the 
word  nin*^  shoidd  be  employed.  But  frequently,  as,  for  example, 
in  Genesis  x^di.,  this  is  not  the  case.  Now,  according  to  that 
view,  if  any  occurrence  in  patriarchal  history  might  claim  the 
use  of  the  liigher  name  of  the  Deity,  it  was  sm-ely  this,  when, 
after  long  preparation,  the  covenant  between  God  and  Abraham 
was  at  last  reaUsed  and  completed,  and  the  distinctively  Israel- 
itish  sign  of  the  covenant — circumcision — was  instituted. 

We  must,  therefore,  give  up  the  Adew  that  in  itself  Q^n^t^ 
indicates  a  lower  and  XT\TV  ^  Idgher  stage  in  the  manifestation 
or  in  the  popular  consciousness  of  God.  We  cannot  but  allow 
that  not  only  does  D^nbi^  often  rise  to  nin^>  ^^^  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^^' 
quently  niH^  ^'^^^  ^^^^^  D"^nS^^  5  i^  short  that,  in  order  that  the 
development  may  reach  its  goal,  Jehovah  becomes  as  frequently 
Elohim  as  Eloliim  becomes  Jehovah.  It  is  the  peculiar  merit 
of  Baumgarten  that  he  was  the  first,  in  his  Commentary,  clearly 
to  acknowledge  this  fact,  and  to  incUcate  the  proper  way  of 
nndei-staiicUng  it — and  that  he  did  so  correctly,  in  point  of  fact, 
if  not  of  language.  Since  that  time  Delitzscli,  and  the  author  of 
this  (m  the  v/ork  on  Gen.  above  referred  to) ,  have  attempted  to 
rectily,  to  substantiate,  and  to  develop  the  views  of  Baumgarten 
on  this  subject.  The  etjrmology  of  these  two  names  of  God 
points  out  the  right  way  of  determining  the  difference  subsisting 


OLD  TESTAMENT  REVELATION.    (§  13.)  21 

between  them.  Hengstenherg  (1.  c.  p.  266),  Ildvernick,  Drechsler, 
Keil,  and  Hofmunn,  derive  the  word  Q'^nS'i*^  from  the  Arabic 

i^\,  coluit,  adoravit  Deum,  and  intrans.  ^1,  stupuit,  pavore  cor- 
reptus  est.  But  even  the  relationship  between  the  transitive 
and  the  intransitive  form  renders  it  more  aj)propriate  to  reverse 
this,  and  to  regard  the  verb  as  denominative  of  the  Divine  name 

s    ^ 

rriSi^)  sJi)^  and  ultimately  to  derive  the  latter  from  the  obsolete 

Hebrew  root  p]^^  =  ^^^  (to  be  strong).  These  two  forms  of 
the  verb,  both  having  the  same  meaning,  have  each  become  the 
root  of  a  special  name  of  the  Deity,  for  as  that  of  ni^i^  ^^ 
derived  from  p]^^,  so  that  of  ^^  from  ^^^.  (Comp.  Tucli^  p. 
xsxix.,  Gesenius  in  the  thes.,  Delitzsch,  &c.  Hence  the  funda- 
mental idea  attaching  to  the  word  n^H^t^  ^^  ^^  ^^^^^  <^f  strength, 
while  the  plural  indicates  that  the  term  uiiphes  both  absolute 
fulness  and  a  diversity  which  embraces  and  exhausts  every- 
thing (comp.  Hengstenherg,  1.  c,  p.  270,  and  following).  On 
the  streng-th  of  Ex.  iii.  14,  &c.,  the  name  "rxyrV  ^^^  generally 
been  derived  from  ^yr\  =  rT^H'  ^^  lately  JEioold,  appealing  to 

Gen.  xix.  24,  tried  to  deduce  it  from  the  Arabic  root  \^,  and 
declared  that  its  original  meaning  was  ^'height,  heaven."  How- 
ever, despite  tliis  unsuccessfid  attempt  at  interpretation  (comp. 
the  remarks  of  Caspari,  Lutheran  Anuals,  1846,  i.,  p.  164),  we 
may  keep  by  the  old,  obvious,  and  well  established  derivation  of 
the  word.  It  is  well  known  that,  although  its  original  punctua- 
tion is  uncertain,  the  word  ^'\r\'^  has,  as  la"i  perpetuum,  the 
vowel  points  of  i<it^j  (comp.  Hengstenherg,  1.  c.  222,  following). 

It  is  erroneous  to  maintain  that  niJl''  ^^  ^^^^  ^^^7  possible  form 
of  the  imperfect  of  nin  (comp.  Delitzsch,  Symb.,  p.  4,  and 
especially  P.  Casj)ari  on  Micha,  the  Morasthite,  and  his  prophet, 
writings,  Christiania  1851,  p.  5,  following).  The  investigations 
of  the  latter  prove  that  among  the  foiu'  modes  of  pronunciation 
possible,  nin^j  TD'n'^} — n*\'n'^  ^^^'^  mn^j  one  of  the  first  two  has 
most  probability  in  its  favour.     The  punctuation  niH'')  ^i'  mJl'' 

proposed  by  Fiirst  (in  his  Dictionary),  which  at  first  sight  would 
almost  seem  to  be  the  most  obvious,  cannot  be  admitted,  as  in 
that  case  the  nomm.  propria  composita,  which  have  niH^  ^or 
their  second  component  part,  would  require  to  terminate  in  topi's 

and  not  in  »)p^i.  The  Scriptmes  themselves  fiu'nish  two  expla- 
nations of  the  meaning  of  the  word  niH''-  -^-^^  Exodus  iii.  14  the 
Lord  Himself   interprets  it   by   n"^ni^   "^ITt^   rT^Hi^r   and   in 


22  INTRODUCTION.    (§  13.) 

Revel,  i.  4  it  is  paraplirased :  6  cov  koX  6  rjv  koI  o  ep-)(0[xevo<;. 
;-j^pj  is  equivalent  to  (pvvat,  yeveadat,  elvai ;  it  indicates  concrete, 
not  abstract  being — such  being  as  makes  its  appearance,  mani- 
fests itself  in  liistory,  and,  so  to  speak,  becomes  historical.  This 
meaning  comes  out  more  fully  and  prominently  in  the  imperfec- 
tive  form  of  the  name  derived  from  it.  Hence  -fin*^  is  God 
outwardly  manifesting  Himself,  reveaUng  Himself,  li^dng,  work- 
ing, and  reigning  in  history,  ever  wifolding  there,  more  and 
more,  His  character  and  being.  Withal  it  must  be  evident 
that  the  name  niH"''  ^^  ^^^^^  '^^  ^^^  outwardly  manifesting  Him- 
salf,  could  only  have  originated  among  a  nation  which  either  en- 
joyed, or  at  least  beheved  that  it  enjoyed,  the  continual  presence 
of  God  as  their  king,  and  whose  enthe  development  was,  or 
claimed  to  be,  dependent,  and  to  rest  upon  a  special  manifesta- 
tion of  Himself  But  as  Israel  claimed  this  Divine  presence  for 
itself  exclusively,  it  is  plain  that  the  use  of  that  name  must  also 
have  been  exclusively  confined  to  its  history  and  worsliip. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  clearly  to  understand  both  the 
meaning  of,  and  the  difterence  obtaining  between,  these  two 
names  of  the  Deity.  They  stand  in  the  relation  of  potency  to 
evolution — of  the  beginning,  wliich,  in  potency,  aheady  con- 
tains the  entire  development,  to  the  progress,  dm-ing  which  this 
potency  is  actually  evolved  in  outward  appearances.  Elohim  is 
the  God  of  the  commencement,  who,  in  Himself  has  the  potencies 
of  all  life  and  development — who,  by  his  creative  agency,  pre- 
sents them  external  to  Himself,  and  initiates  the  commencements 
of  history,  which  are  afterwards  to  be  so  fully  developed.  On 
the  other  hand,  Jehovah  is  the  God  of  the  develojjment,  who 
takes  up  the  work  of  Eloliim,  who  causes  the  potencies  to  unfold, 
and  directs  what  was  begun  to  a  termination.  Elohim  is  the 
Creator — absolute  fulness  of  life,  transcendent  independence  and 
superiority  to  every  terrestrial  limitation  are  His  characteristics. 
Jehovah  is  the  medium  connecting  the  commencement  with  the 
end,  the  God  of  development  and  of  history,  who  personally  takes 
part  in  events,  and  adapts  Himself  to  them,  or  to  time  and  to 
space.  The  name  Eloliim  indicates  absolute  fidness  and  power 
of  Hfe,  and  assm'es  us  that  every  product  of  His  acti^dty  is  rich 
in,  and  capable  of,  development,  that  it  may  perfectly  unfold  and 
attain  its  goal,  but  not  that  it  certainly  shall  do  so.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  name  of  Jehovah  guarantees  the  development 
itself,  and  that  the  potency  will  ultimately  reach  its  fullest  de- 
velopment, that  what  was  begun  shall  reach  its  proper  termina- 
tion. For,  in  His  character  of  Jehovah,  God  undertakes  the 
development ;  it  now  rests  upon  Him,  He  becomes  its  coefficient, 
and  He  unfolds  Himself  in  and  along  ivith  the  mimdane  and 
creature-development.     Hence,  despite  the  Aacissitudes  and  dis- 


OLD  TESTAMENT  HISTOHY.    (§  13.)  23 

turbances  caused  by  the  co-operation  of  man's  free  will,  it  must 
necessarily  reach  its  goal.  The  guarantee  for  the  development 
an  1  the  attainment  of  the  goal  ottered  by  the  name  niH^  i^  ^^^~ 
tinctly  pointed  out  in  the  explanation  of  that  name  in  Ex.  iii. 
14,  by  J^^p^  -,y^^^  r\^y?^' 

If  the  word  Eloiiim  indicates  the  God  of  the  beginning,  and 
Jehovah  the  God  of  the  middle,  which  receives  and  comprehends 
witliin  itself  the  beginning,  the  God  of  development,  whose  it  is 
to  guide  the  beginning  to  its  end,  then  the  name  Elohim  must 
also  apply  to  the  fidness  of  the  end.  As  the  God  of  the  begin- 
ning, Elohim  is,  eo  ipso,  also  the  God  of  the  end.  For  the  end 
is  the  return  to  the  beginning ;  what  the  latter  contained  in 
potency,  the  former  exliibits  in  outward  fact.  As  Jehovah  takes 
up  the  commencement  made  by  Eloliim,  in  order  to  conduct  it 
tlirough  aU  its  varied  developments  unto  the  end,  so  Elohim  also 
again  takes  up  the  termination,  after  that  Jehovah  has  tinislied 
his  work,  and  accomplished  the  development.  This  taking  up 
of  the  end  on  the  part  of  Elohim  constitutes  the  judgment,  for 
the  actual  termination  is  judged  of  according  to  the  potencies 
inherent  in  the  commencement.  Elohim,  then,  is  the  God  of 
the  commencement  and  of  the  end ;  Jehovah  the  God  of  the 
middle,  of  the  development,  wliich  lies  between  the  commence- 
ment and  the  end. 

From  this  point  of  view,  the  difficulty  so  fatal  to  the  theory  of 
Hengstenbcrg,  is  readily  and  naturally  solved,  and  Ave  under- 
stand how,  during  the  course  of  the  covenant  history  of  Israel, 
Elohim  changes  and  rises  to  Jehovah,  and,  vice  versa,  under 
given  circumstances,  Jehovah  into  Elohim.  The  latter  wiU  take 
place  whencA'cr,  during  the  progressive  development,  a  fresh 
creative  cunmiencement  has  to  be  made,  or  when  a  new  potency, 
which  Omnipotence  must  guide  to  its  goal,  makes  its  appearance 
for  the  jiurpose  of  furthering  the  development — or  wlienever  a 
develo})ment  reaches  its  end,  whether  this  be  a  wi-ong  end, 
through  the  siufidness  of  men,  or  whether  it  comes  u})  to  the 
idea  wliich  it  was  meant  to  embody.  In  the  former  case,  Elohim 
appears  aajiidge  ;  in  the  latter,  Eloliim,  who,  in  the  conunence- 
ment,  appeared  as  the  fulness  of  life,  manifests  Himself  as  the 
fulness  of  Ijlessedness,  'iva  f]  6  6eb<;  to,  Travra  iv  rrdaiv. 

We  sul)join  a  quotation  from  Delitzseh.  (syml).  1.  c.)  to  show 
in  what  jirejjaratory  relation  Israels  consciousness  of  God,  as 
manifest  in  these  two  names,  stands  to  that  of  the  Christian 
Church.  He  remarks — "  Nomen  Q">n^i^  ^^^^^^  (\m^  homines 
duntaxant  de  Deo  sentiant,  sed  qualis  sit  in  semet  ipso,  eflfert  et 
omnipotentem  ejus  naturam  simid  cum  vita  ejus  inunanente 
denotat,  Deum  quatenus  vitam  omnijiotentem  habet  in  semet 
ipso  ac  proinde  omnisvitie  et  principlum  est  et  finis.     Bevvlatio 


24  INTRODUCTION.    (§  14.) 

mysterii  trinitatis  pro  hujus  nominis  explicatione  hahenda  est 
(comp.  also  Hengstenberg's  Contr.  i.  268,  Comment,  on  the 
Book  of  Psalms,  v.  iii.,  p.  42,  app.)  Contra  nomen  ;-\'^T]'^  Dens 
assnmsit,  qnatenus  progressionem  generis  Immani  a  principio  ad 
finem  ipse  per  aatatum  decm*sum  gubernat  et  intra  limites  spatii 
et  temjDoris  salutariter  se  manifestat ;  quse  manifestatio  in  V. 
T.  gentis  israeliticas  terminis  prasparatorie  adstricta  erat,  donee 
in  hac  ipsa  gente  Jeliova  humanam  natm*am  sibi  uniret  nominis- 
que  sui  ^dm  declaret.  Incarnatio  pro  nominis  ^^^p^^  explica- 
tione hahenda  est,  nam  qua  de  causa  et  quo  consilio  Deus  in  V. 
T.  Jeliova  nuncupetur,  in  facie  Jesu  Christi  elucescit. 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES  FOR  THE  HISTORY  OF 
THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

§  14.  The  Holy  Scriptures,  contained  in  the  Old  Testament, 
whose  peculiar  character  we  have  described  above  (v.  §  10  and 
11),  are  the  fii'st,  the  most  peculiar,  and  the  principal  som'ces 
for  the  histoiy  of  the  Old  Covenant.  We  have  already  shown 
that  if  the  Scriptm'es  are  to  be  properly  appreciated  and  imder- 
stood,  they  requu-e  to  be  made  the  subject  of  careful  and  con- 
scientious research,  study,  and  comment,  because,  like  the  his- 
toiy of  which  they  bear  record,  they  contain,  besides  their  Divine, 
a  human  element  also.  1^  is  the  province  of  a  Biblical  Intro- 
duction, or  rather  Biblical  Literary  History  (as  it  has  been  more 
correctly  designated),  to  carry  on  this  inqmiy  and  investigation 
(so  necessary  for  science)  in  its  historical  aspect.  The  student 
has  here  to  enquire  into  the  origin  of  the  sacred  writings,  into 
the  time,  place,  authorship,  occasion,  means  and  sources,  end  and 
purpose  of  their  composition.  He  has  also  to  examine  their 
further  liistoiy,  especially  that  of  their  collection,  preservation, 
and  dissemination  (1.)  The  diplomatic  aspect  of  this  investiga- 
tion forms  the  object  of  textual  criticism,  which  has  to  present  us 
with  the  text,  so  far  as  possible,  in  all  its  integrity  and  purity, 
as  ascertained  by  an  examination  of  all  the  evidence  that  may  be 
found  on  the  subject.  Lastly,  exegetics  imdertakes  the  philolo- 
gical part  of  the  enquiry.  It  seeks  to  ascertain,  to  its  full  ex- 
tent, the  meaning  which  every  author  intended  to  convey.  For 
tliis  purpose  it  makes  use  of  every  aid  wliicli  history,  criticism, 
and  the  study  of  languages  can  fm'nish — a  task  the  more  im- 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  14.)  25 

portant,  as  the  differences  of  time,  of  circumstances,  and  of  tlie 
manner  of  viewing  wliicli  obtains  between  an  author  and  his 
commentator,  lead  to  many  difficulties,  both  in  respect  of  the  ex- 
pressions used  and  of  the  things  expressed  (2.) 

(1.)  *Comp.  Herm.  Hupfckl  on  the  idea  and  method  of  so-called 
Bibhcal  introductions,  with  a  survey  of  their  history  and  Utera- 
ture,  Marburg  1844.  Among  the  various  problems  of  Biblical 
Hterary  history,  that  of  the  origin  of  the  Biblical  writings  is  at 
once  the  most  important  and  the  most  difficult.  On  this  ques- 
tion scientific  enquiry  is  at  this  moment  engaged  in  a  contro- 
very,  the  final  termination  of  which  is  not  yet  within  sight. 
Comp.  *  the  author  s  dissertation  on  the  influence  of  the  histori- 
cal and  theological  views  of  a  critic  on  the  criticism  of  the 
Pentateuch,  in  his  work  on  the  unity  of  the  book  of  Genesis. 
Berlin,  1846,  p.  5 — 20.  The  question  about  the  authors,  about 
the  time,  place,  and  occasion  of  certain  Biblical  writings,  is  of 
twofold  importance  for  our  special  objects.  They  are  both  the 
sources  of  our  historical  enquiries  and  also  integral  portions  of  tliis 
liistory,  i.e. ,  they  are  on  the  one  hand  i\\c productions  of  a  past,  and 
on  the  other  the  moving  s'prings  of  a  future  historical  development. 

We  append  a  literary  survey  of  recent  general  works  on  the 
introduction  to  the  study  of  the  Old  Testament,  reserving  the 
mention  of  monographs  till  we  treat  of  the  subjects  on  which 
they  respectively  bear.  With  the  exception  of  the  brief  com- 
pendium by  De  Wette,  the  negative  and  distinctive  criticism  of 
*J.  G.  Eicliliorn  (1780),  4th  ed.,  Gottingen,  1820-1824,  5  vols., 
and  of  iy.  Bertlwldt,  1812,  has  not  found  more  recent  advocacy, 
in  so  far  as  general  introductions  to  the  Old  Testament  are  con- 
cerned. But  the  opposite,  the  conservative,  direction,  has  had 
many  representatives,  both  among  Roman  Cathohcs  and  among 
Protestants.  Since  the  "  Introductio  ad  libros  canon.  Vet.  Test., 
ed.  III.,  Lips.  1741,  4,"  by  J.  Gottl.  Carpzov,  a  thorough  w^ork, 
based,  however,  on  the  one-sided  and  formerly  current  notion  of 
ii  mechanical  inspiration,  and  not  assigning,  therefore,  to  criticism 
its  proper  place,  the  following  works,  which,  in  particidar  points, 
also  very  much  prepared  the  way  for  Old  Testament  history,  have 
appeared.  The  Roman  Catholics  have  furnished  *J.  Jalin's 
Introd.  to  the  Div.  Writings  of  the  Old  Test.,  3  vols,  Vienna, 
2d  ed.,  1802,  1803 ;  *e/.  G.  Hcrhst  Hist,  and  Grit.  Introduct.  to 
the  Sacred  Writings  of  the  0.  T.,  completed  by  B.  JVelte,  Karls- 
ruhe, 1840-44,  4  vols.  ;  *J.  M.  August  in  ScJioh  Introd.  to  the 
Sacred  Writings  of  the  0.  and  N.  T.,  Cologne  1845,  of  which 
as  yet  only  3  vols,  have  appeared  ;  *D.  Haneherg  Contributions 
to  a  History  of  Bibl.  Revel. ,  designed  as  Introduct.  to  the  0.  and 
N.  T.,  Regensb.,  1850.     From  Protestant  authors  we  have  He. 


2G  INTRODUCTION.    (§  14.) 

A .  Hdvernick's  Manual  of  Hist,  and  Crit.  Introd.  to  tlie  Sacred 
Writings  of  the  0.  T.,  4  vols.,  the  5th  vol.  by  K.  Fr.  Keil, 
Erlangen,  1836-49  ;  a  Manual  on  the  same  subject  by  K.  Fr. 
Keil  is  shortly" expected  (Erlang.  1853).^  E.  W.  Hengstenherg 
has  some  separate  treatises  on  certain  points  and  subjects  con- 
nected with  an  "  Introduction  to  the  Old  Testament,"  which  had 
been  made  the  subjects  of  special  attack.  These  form  his  "  Con- 
tributions to  the  Introduction  to  the  Old  Testament,  Berlin,  3 
vols.,  1831-39,"'^  a  work  which,  according  to  its  original  design, 
was  meant  to  extend  over  all  the  controverted  portions  of  the 
Old  Testament. 

(2.)  The  following  are  the  exegetical  auxiliaries  to  the  study  of 
the  0.  T.  wliich  are  of  most  use.  Among  Rahhinical  cormnentators 
we  note  especially  Jarchi,  Aben-Fzra,  and  D.  Kimchi,  whose 
commentaries  are  placed  side  by  side  in  Buxtorf's  Bibha  Hebraica 
Kabbinica,  4  vol.,  4  Bas.,  1618.  Jarclii  has  been  translated  into 
Latin  by  Breitliaupt,  3  vols.,  4  Goth.,  1710.  Among  modern 
Jewish  commentators*,  L.  PMlii^psons  Isr.  Bible,  Leipz.,  1839, 
deserves  mention.  Among  patristic  writings,  those  of  Theodoret, 
and  of  Chrysostom,  of  Jerome,  and  o^  August  in,  are  of  most  im- 
portance. The  most  notable  of  Roman  Catholic  treatises  on  this 
subject  is  August.  Calmet,  comment,  litteral  sur  tons  les  livres 
de  I'ancien  et  du  noirv.  test.,  23  vols.,  4  par.,  1707 — 16,  contain- 
ing also  able  dissertations  on  difficult  questions.  (The  latter  is 
also  translated  into  German,  and  furnished  with  learned  notes, 
by  *e/.  L.  3Ioskeim,  6  vols.,  Bremen,  1743 — 45).  Among  Pro- 
testant productions,  we  have,  besides  Luther's  deep  and  ecUfying 
but  chiefly  practical  notes,  the  commentaries  of  Calvin  on  almost 
every  book  of  the  Bible,  which  constituted  an  era  in  the  liistory 
of  exegetics.  The  exegetical  works  of  successors  of  the  Re- 
formers, and  partly  those  of  the  latter  also,  are  collected  in  such 
works  as  the  Critici  Sacri,  Lond.  1690,  9  vols.  fol.  (and  other 
ed.),  and  31.  Poli  Synopsis  Criticorum  Sacr.,  5  vols,  fob,  Lond. 
1699  (and  other  ed.)  The  commentaries  of  G.  Clericus  (tl737) 
on  the  Old  Testament,  S23ecially  those  on  the  historical  portions 
of  it,  are  very  valuable  on  account  of  their  able  gi-ammatico- 
historical  expositions,  and  their  apt  quotations  from  classical- 
profane  wi'itings,  although  they  are  considerably  deteriorated, 
from  the  baldness  of  their  Arminianism.  The  English  Com- 
mentary, translated  (into  German) ,  and  with  additional  notes  by 
S.  G.  Baumgarten,  J.  Brucker,  and  others,  19  vols.,  4,  Leipz., 
1748,  still  deserves  attention.  *J.  D.  Blichaelis  translation  of 
the  0.  T.,  with  notes  for  unlearned  readers,  furnishes  useful 

1  In  this  country  we  should  also  mention  the  well-known  Introduction  by 
Canon  Home. — The  Tr. 

2  Translated  by  J.  E.  Ryland,  &c.     (Clark,  Edinburgli.) 


SOUHCES  AND  Al'XILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  15.)  27 

material.  The  scholia  in  Vet.  Test.,  by  E.  F.  K.  Rosenmidler 
(2d  ed.  1821),  are  a  full  and  learned  compilation,  for  which  the 
materials  collated  by  Olericus  have  served  as  a  basis.  F.  J.  V. 
D.  Maurers  comment,  gramm.  crit.  in  Y.  T.  is  only  useful  for 
grammatical  jmrposes.  The  exegetic  manual  of  ^Hitzig  on  the 
0.  T.,  Leipz.  1838  (to  which  Thenius,  Hirzel,  Knohel,  Bertheau, 
have  contril)uted) ,  is  distinguished  for  the  exegetic  abOities  of 
the  writers  engaged  in  it.  Its  general  tendency  is  rationahstic 
in  various  degree  ;  but  most  of  the  contributors  do  not  share  the 
destructive  criticism  of  its  learned  editor.  The  theological  com- 
ment, to  the  0.  T.  conunenced  by  "^Baumgarten  (Kiel  1843), 
furnishes  an  explanation  of  gxeat  importance  for  the  deeper 
theological  understanding  of  the  0.  T.,  as  well  as  for  its  history, 
although  at  times  manifest  mistakes  occur.  Among  popular 
commentaries,  that  by  0.  v.  Gerlach  (continued  by  Schmieder) 
deserves  special  mention  on  account  of  the  thoroughness  and 
originality  of  its  treatment.^ 

§  15.  The  results  of  the  investigations,  devolving  on  biblical 
criticism  and  exegesis,  furnish  the  principal  material  for  a 
scientific  treatment  of  bibhcal  history.  But  besides  history 
(properly  so  called)  some  other  auxiliary  sciences  assist  us  in 
eliciting  the  conclusions  and  facts  to  Avhich  we  have  adverted. 
Among  them  we  reckon  first  Biblical  Antiquities,  wliich,  in  the 
wider  sense  of  that  term,  treat  of  biblical  antiquities  in  all  their 
bearings,  and  embrace  biblical  history  and  geography.  In  the 
narrower  sense  of  the  term,  biblical  antiquities  differ  from  sacred 
history,  the  latter  presenting  the  life  of  the  nation  in  its  progres- 
sive development,  the  former  in  its  abiding  circumstances  and 
stationary  relations.  History  records  facts  ;  archajology,  institu- 
tions, relations,  manners,  and  customs.  But  as  these  are  again 
the  results  of  a  historical  development,  and  exercise  a  powerful 
influence  on  the  farther  development  of  tlie  nation,  history  cannot 
dispense  with  this  important  auxiliary.  (1.)  Biblical  Geography 
is  frequently  studied  in  connection  with  antiquities.  In  its  narrower 
and  more  definite  meaning  that  science  must  be  separately 
treated,  as,  indeed,  its  importance  requires.  Its  value  as  bearing 
on  history  is  self-evident.  (2.)  Biblical  Chronology  is  closely  con- 
nected with  biblical  history.  It  may  be  viewed  in  one  of  three 
ways,   either  as   mathematical,   as  technical,  or   as  historical 

^  It  is  needless  to  mentinn  the  names  of  the  principal  British  and  Ameri- 
can commentators. — The  Tr. 


28  INTRODUCTION.    (§  15.) 

chronology.  The  first  of  these  jDresents  to  us  the  scientific 
astronomical  princiiDles  necessary  for  the  division  of  time ;  the 
second  shews  how  the  nations  adapted  these  principles  for  the 
purposes  of  ordinary  life ;  the  tliird  apphes  them  for  fixing  the 
dates  of  historical  events.  The  first  lies  beyond  the  province  of 
history,  the  second  forms  a  part  of  biblical  archaeology,  wliile  the 
third  is  so  important  an  element  in  historical  enquiry  that  only 
the  peculiar  difiicidties,  and  the  special  importance  attaching  to 
it,  can  w^arrant  us  in  treating  it  as  a  separate  study.  (3.)  Lastly, 
in  the  study  of  the  history  of  the  Old  Covenant,  Biblical  Theo- 
logy forms  an  indispensable  auxiliary.  Tliis  science  treats  of  the 
historical  and  genetic  development  of  rehgious  consciousness 
among  the  covenant-people,  and  of  their  subjective  preparation 
for  receiving  that  salvation,  which  is  objectively,  and  as  matter 
of  fact,  exliibited  in  and  by  history.  (4.) 

(1 . )  Among  rabbinical  treatises  on  Hehreio  A  ntiquities  the  two 
works  of  R.  Moses  Ben  Maimon  (Maimonides)  nptn  T^  (strong 
hand)  and  Q^^'^^i  TT\yt2  (doctor  perplexorum)  deserve  special 
mention.  Acuteness  and  sobriety  of  reasoning  are  the  pro- 
minent characteristics  of  that  author.  Among  works  written 
by  Christians  we  mention  first  the  large  collection  of  treatises 
combined  in  Bias.  Ugolini  thesaurus  autiq.  ss.  Venet.  1744 — 69. 
34  vols.  fol.  On  the  character  and  the  influence  of  Spencer  de 
legibus  ritual.  Hebr.  1.  iii.  (1686)  ed.  PtafP  Tub.'  1732  fob— a 
work  learned  and  acute  indeed,  but  destitute  of  all  deeper  insight 
— comp.  Hengstenherg's  coutrib.  i.  p.  4.  and  following.  J. 
Lundius  Jewish  Antiquities  (1704),  with  notes  by  Wolf,  Ham- 
burg 1732  fob,  is  difluse  but  edifying.  The  author  possesses 
rabbinical  lore,  but  liis  researches  are  neither  original  nor  critical. 
J.  G.  Carpzovii  apparatus  hist.-crit.  antiquit.  sacri  codicis  et 
gentis  Hebr.  1784.  4.  is  a  learned  and  exliaustive  commentary 
on  GoodAvin's  Moses  et  Aaron.  J.  D.  Micliaelis  Laws  of  Moses 
Frankf.  1770,  2d  ed.  1793.  6  vols,  follows  in  the  wake  of  Spencer. 
The  author  has  collected  abundant  material,  he  is  painstaking 
and  ingenious,  but  too  often  descends  to  silly  tri\dalities,  is  too 
diffuse,  and  especially  reduces  every  lofty  subject  to  the  level  of 
the  merest  commonplace,  comp.  Hengstenherg  1.  c.  p.  13,  and 
following. — R.  Rosenmiillers  Manual  of  Bibl.  Antiq.  in  7  vols, 
(treating  only  of  geography  and  natural  history)  1823,  and  tlie 
"  ancient  and  modern  East"  by  the  same  author,  6  vols.  Leipz. 
1818,  are  careful  and  useful  compilations  of  the  materials  known 
in  his  time.  J.  Jahn's  Bibl.  Ai'chasology  3  vols.  Vienna  1824. 
Among  more  recent  manuals  we  may  mention  the  works  of 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCE'^.    (§15.)  29 

Pareau  1817;  Sclioh  1834;  KaltlwflMO;  AJh'oJi  1842;  De 
Wette  3  ed.  1842.  The  natural  liistory  of  the  Bible  has,  in  its 
various  departments,  been  treated  as  a  special  branch  of  biblical 
antiquities  in  such  works  as  Cehii  Hierobotanicum.  Ups.  1745  ; 
Ham.  Bochart  liierozoicon  (16G3),  the  latest  ed.  by  Rosenmiiller, 
T^eipz.  1793 — 96.  3  vols.  4  (an  almost  inexhaustible  store-house 
of  tlie  most  choice  and  varied  learning) ;  finally  J.  Joe.  Scheuchzer 
Physica,  or  Sacred  Natural  Hist.,  treating  of  the  questions  in 
natural  history  alluded  to  in  the  Scriptures,  5  vols.  fol.  Augsb. 
1731 — 79.  Donat.  3  vols.  4.  Leipz.  1777 — 79  published  a  con- 
densed edition  of  this  work.  For  medical  questions  consult  J.  P. 
Trusen  the  diseases  of  the  Bible  and  notes  on  the  passages  which 
refer  to  medicine,  Posen  1843  ;  and  J.  B.  Friedreiclis  Fragments 
on  the  natural  hist.,  anthropol.,  and  medic,  of  the  Bible,  Nurnb. 
1848,  2  vols. 

(2.)  Palestine,  the  holy  land  is  the  soil  on  which  our  history 
develops.  Besides,  Egypt,  Arabia,  and  the  countries  of  Western 
Asia  occasionally  claim  also  consideration.  A  complete  index  of 
the  literature  of  Biblical  Geofjraphy,  in  so  far  as  it  refers  to  Pales- 
tine, is  furnished  in  Rohinson's  Palestine  ii.  pp.  533  and  following.^ 
As  som-ces  and  auxiliaries  in  the  investigation  of  the  geographical 
questions  connected  with  our  history,  we  have,  besides  the  Bible, 
Josephus,  the  Talmud,  and  the  Greek  and  Roman  historians 
and  geographers,  especially  the  tahida  Theodosiana,  better  known 
by  the  name  oi  Peutingeriana,  being  an  index  (or  a  kind  of  rough 
map)  of  the  military  roads  in  the  Roman  empire  during  the  reign 
of  Theodosius  the  Great,  and  of  the  distance  between  the  various 
towns.  This  map,  so  long  in  the  })ossession  of  Privy  Counsellor 
Peutinger,  is  now  in  the  imperial  library  at  Vienna.  Mannert 
has  given  an  exact  reprint  of  it  (Leipzig  1829) — the  section  re- 
ferring to  Palestine  will  be  found  in  Reland's  Pala3st.  p.  421. — 
Eusebii  onomasticon  urbium  et  locorum  s.  sacr.  has  only  been 
preserved  in  the  latin  translation  of  Jerome.  Edit,  by  J. 
Clericus  in  Nic.  Sansons  geogr.  s.  Amstd.  1707.  The  Itinera- 
rium  Antonini  Augusti  contains  an  index  of  names  and  distances, 
and  dates  from  the  fourth  century.  Comp.  ReJand  1.  c.  p.  416 
and  following.  Since  then  the  holy  land  has,  during  every  cen- 
tury, been  visited  and  described  by  a  multitude  of  travellers. 
The  following  works  of  recent  travellers  are  among  the  most 
important  for  the  geographical  and  historical  knowledge  of  the 
country.  Carsten  Niebuhrs }onvnej  in  the  years  1761 — 67  ;  that 
of  Ulr.  J.  Seetzen  in  1803—10  ;  of  J.  L.  Burl-hardt  1810—16  ; 
of  G.  H.  V.  ScJmbert  1839 — 10  ;  of  Jos.  Russeggcr  in  1835—41  ; 
and  esjiecially  that  of  Ed.  Robinson,  Prof  in  New  York,  who,  in 

'  The  reference3  are  throughout  to  the  second  edition  of  Robinson's  Pales- 
tine.— The  Tr. 


30  INTRODUCTION.    (§  15.) 

company  with  the  Eev.  E.  Smith,  a  missionary  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted mth  the  language  and  the  customs  of  the  country,  visited 
Palestine  and  the  countries  south  of  it  in  1838,  after  the  most 
careful  preparation,  and  under  the  most  advantageous  chciun- 
stances,  for  the  sole  pm'pose  of  investigating  on  the  spot  the  most 
difficidt  portions  of  bibHcal  geography.^  The  diary  of  this 
journey,  edited  by  Professor  Robinson,  is  an  opus  jjahnare.  In 
great  part  it  has  satisfactorily  solved  difficulties  formerly  felt, 
and  explained  or  vindicated  many  portions  of  sacred  history  on 
which  criticism  had  attempted  to  tlu'ow  doubts.  The  extensive 
work  of  Dr  Wilson,  who  \dsited  the  holy  places  in  1843  ("the 
lands  of  the  Bible,  2  vols.  Edinb.  1847")  deserves  in  many 
respects  attention,  although,  in  point  of  real  value,  it  is  far  out- 
distanced by  that  of  his  American  predecessor.  The  journey  of 
Const.  Tischeiidorf  (1844)  was  imdertaken,  in  the  first  place,  for 
other  scientific  purposes.  It  treats  only  incidentally  of  anti- 
quarian and  geographical  subjects.  F.  A.  Strauss  and  W. 
Krofft  travelled  in  Palestine  in  1845.  They  have  since  announced 
a  work  descriptive  of  Mount  Sinai,  and  of  about  30  places  which 
they  have  succeeded  in  discovering.^ 

The  following  are  the  best  mamials  of  biblical  geography. 
Hadr.  Reland,  Palajstina  ex  monum.  vett.  illustr.  Traj.  Bat. 
1714.  4,  a  book  of  sterling  value  even  in  our  own  days. — A.  Fr. 
Bilschmg,  Geography  Pt.  V.  Altona  1785. — K.  Bitter  has  incor- 
porated in  his  geography  (Erdlumde)  2d  ed.  Vols.  xiv.  xv. 
(1.  2.)  xvi.  (1.  2.)  BerKn  1848  (Peninsula  of  Sinai,  Palestine, 
and  Syria),  the  materials  of  all  former  investigations,  and  fur- 
nished a  masterly  scientific  work  on  the  subject. — B.  von 
Baumers  Palajstine  (3d  ed.  Leipzig  1851)  is  a  manual  equally 
distinguished  for  its  scientific  merits  and  its  Clmstian  tone. 
The  work  of  L.  El.  Gratz  on  biblical  geography,  which  forms 
part  of  AUioli's  biblical  antiquities,  does  not  come  up  to  the 
present  requirements  of  science.  A  popular  book,  of  considerable 
merit,  is  the  biblical  geography,  published  by  the  Calw  U7iion, 
6  ed.,  1846.  Fr.  Ariiold's  Palestine,  Halle  1845,  shews  learning, 
and  deserves  attention. 

Before  the  work  of  Bohinson  had  appeared,  the  maps  of  the 
Holy  Land  by  Grrimm  and  Bergliaus  were  considered  to  be  the 
best.  They  have  since  lost  their  value,  on  account  of  the  many 
corrections  and   additions   wliich   the   researches   of  Professor 

1  In  1852,  Professor  Robinson  revisited  Palestine,  and  has  accordingly 
communicated  additional  information.  The  results  of  these  two  journeys 
have  recently  been  combined  by  him  into  one  work  (3  vols.,  London,  1856). 
—The  Tr. 

2  Since  the  text  was  written,  besides  minor  works,  the  following  books  on 
Palestine  claim  the  attention  of  the  scholar  and  student : — Rahbi  Schwartz's, 
De  Saulcy's,  Lieut.  Van  der  Felde'.f,  and  Mr  Stanley', i. — The  Tr. 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  15.)  31 

"Robinson  have  made  necessary.  H.  Kiepert  has,  with  great 
diligence  and  accuracy,  di-awn  the  maps  for  Professor  Robinson's 
work.  A  number  of  maps  have  since  appeared,  each  mar  in  ; 
the  latest  discoveries.  Kiepert  has  reduced  the  maps  to  the 
work  of  Professor  Robinson  in  size,  and  added  to  them  tliose  of 
the  lands  east  of  Palestine  (edited  by  Hitter,  Berlin  1842,  and 
a  re\dsed  edition  in  1844).  On  a  much  larger  scale  C.  Zimmer- 
man drew  his  map  of  Syi-ia  and  Palestine  (to  illustrate  the  work 
oi  K.  Bitter),  Berl.  1850,  in  15  sheets.  Of  other  maps  we  may 
specially  mention  those  of  Kiifseheit,  Berlin  1843,  and  of  K.  v. 
Ilaumer  and  Fr.  v.  Stillpnagel,  Weimar  1844,  which  latter,  by 
adding  other  necessary  maps,  satisfactorily  meets  the  demands  of 
Bible  students  generally. 

(3.)  The  principal  authorities  on  the  study  of  mathematical 
and  technical  Chronology  are  Ideler's  excellent  and  thorough 
\vi-itings  ;  the  manual  of  mathematical  and  technical  Cln'onol., 
2  vols.,  Berlin  1825,  and  the  manual  of  Chron.,  Berlin  1831. 
Comp.  also  W.  Matzka,  Chronol.  in  all  its  departments,  Vienna 
1844.  The  Chronographies  of  Jul.  Africanns  and  of  Eusehius 
are  of  special  importance  to  historical  chronology  generally,  and 
particularly  in  its  bearings  on  biblical  history.  The  first  of  these 
works  has  been  entirely  lost,  but  Eusebius  made  considerable 
use  of  the  information  it  conveyed  in  his  Chronicon,  or  TravToSaTrr] 
iaropia.  But  the  original  of  this  important  work  has  also  been 
lost,  and  only  fragments  of  it  have  been  preserved  in  the  writings 
of  the  Syncellist  Georgius.  Jerome  has  Imnished  a  translation 
(in  remodelled  form)  of  the  2d  book  of  the  Chronicon  of  Eusebius. 
In  his  ''  thesaurus  temporum"'  J.  J.  Scaliger  has  attempted,  by 
the  most  laljorious  rcseai'ch  and  the  most  acute  combinations,  to 
reconstruct  the  whole  of  that  work.  But  not  many  years  ago  an 
Ai'menian  translation  of  the  original  was  discovered  at  Constan- 
tinople, and  edited  both  by  Aucher  and  Aug.  Mai.  (Comp. 
Niebuhr's  histor.  inferences  from  the  Armenian  Chron^on  of 
Eusebius,  in  liis  miscellaneous  writings,  1st  collect.,  Bonn  1828). 
The  Chronicon  Paschale,  composed  in  the  spirit  of  Byzantine 
historians,  contains  a  Chronology  extending  from  the  creation  of 
the  world  to  the  time  of  the  emperor  Heraclius,  arranged  accord- 
ing to  the  paschal  festivities.  Edit,  hy  du  Fresne,  Paris  1G89, 
fol.,  and  by  Dindorf,  Bonn  1832.  Besides  these  we  have  to 
mention  the  Jewish  Chronicon  mundi  majus  et  minus  (n^iv  "^ID 
^;^-^  and  fc^^tSIt)  l^cbr.,  Amstd.  1711,  4;  translated  into  latin 
with  a  Comm.  by  J.  Meyer,  Amsterd.  1649,  4.  The  former 
extends  to  the  time  of  the  emperor  Hadrian.  Its  reputed  author 
was  R.  Jose  Ben  C]nlp)eta,  ((Jhalipta),  who  flourished  about  the 
year  130,  known  as  the  teacher  of  Jehudah  Hakkadosh,  the  cele- 
brated compiler  of  the  Mishnah.  The  Seder  01am  Sutha  is  of 
more  recent  date. 


32  INTRODUCTION.    (§  15.) 

On  chronology  generally  we  have  the  comprehensive  Avorks  of 
J.  J.  Scaliger  de  emendatione  temporum,  Par,  1583,  fol.  ;  Seth. 
Calvisius  opus  clii-onologiciim,  Lij)s.  1605,4;  Dion.  Petavius, 
opus  de  doctr.  temporum,  Par.  1627,  2  vols,  fol.,  edid.  et  auxit 
J.  Harduin,  Antv.  1723,  3  vols.  fol.  ;  J.  Ilarsham  canon  clu'o- 
nicus  a3gyi)t.  ehr.  gT^ec,  Lond.  1672;  Al^jJi.  de  Vig notes,  chionol. 
de  Thist.  s.  et  des  histt.  etrang.  qui  la  concernent,  depuis  la  sortie 
de  TEgypte  jusqua  la  captivite  de  Babyl.  Berl.  1738,  2  vols.  4 
fFr.  ClemencetJ  I'art  de  verifier  les  dates  histor.     Par.  1818. 

The  following  works  treat  exclusively,  or  at  least  principally, 
of  Biblical  Clironology : — Camp.  Vitringa  hypotyposis  liist.  et 
chron.  s.  edit,  noviss.  Havniae  1774  ;  Alph.  de  Vignoles  chrono- 
logic de  riiist.  s.  depuis  la  sortie  de  I'Egypte  jusqua  la  captivite 
de  Bab.,  Berl.  1738,  2  vols.  4;  Alb.  Bengel  ordo  temporum 
(1741),  ed.  ii.  cur.  Fr.  Helhvag,  Stuttg.,  1770;  K.  Chr.  von 
Bennigsen,  hibl.  chronol.  of  the  O.  and  N.  Test.,  Leipz.  1788,  4  ; 
J.  G.  Frank  nov,  syst.  chron.  fundamentahs,  with  preface  by 
Gatterer,  Gottg.,  1788,  fol. — a  German  condensation  of  this  work 
appeared  at  Dessau  in  1783  ;  J.  N.  Tiele  clu-onology  of  the  0. 
T.  to  the  first  year  of  Koresh,  Bremen,  1839  ;  A.  Archinard  la 
chronolog.  sacree  basee  sur  les  decouvertes  de  ChampoUion,  Par. 
1841  ;  G.  Seyffarth  clironol.  sacra,  or  enquiries  into  the  year  of 
the  birth  of  our  Lord,  and  into  the  cluronology  of  the  0.  and  N. 
T.,  Leipz.  1846. 

Note. — When  applying  the  Christian  era  to  the  events  of 
Old  Testament  history,  it  is  necessary  first  to  place  the  latter 
into  juxtaposition  with  cotemporary  events  in  profane  liistory, 
whose  exact  date  has  been  definitely  fixed.  But  this  only  be- 
comes possible  when  we  reach  the  point  where  Persian  and 
Jewish  liistory  come  into  contact.  But  at  this  period  Biblical 
clu'onology  ceases  to  be  independent.  The  chronology  of  the 
period  preceding  that  of  the  Persian  is  as  yet  involved  in  such 
darkness  and  uncertainty,  that  it  is  impossible  to  apply  any  re- 
sults thence  derived  towards  ascertaining  or  fixing  the  data  of 
Biblical  chi'onology.  This  remark  applies  not  only  to  Assyrian 
and  Babylonian  chronology,  where  we  still  wait  for  definite  clu'o- 
nological  results  from  the  discoveries  made  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Euphrates  and  of  the  Tigris,  but  also  to  the  history  of 
Egypt,  the  residts  of  wliicli — if,  indeed,  they  may  be  called  re- 
sults— are  still  so  conflicting,  uncertain,  and  doubtful  that  the 
time  seems  yet  distant  when  Old  Testament  events  may  be 
examined  and  determined  according  to  a  standard  furnished  by 
them. 

Bunsen  imagines  that  in  his  work  on  Egypt  (to  which  we 
shall  by  and  bye  refer),  he  has  succeeded  in  so  combining  the 
data  gathered  from  monuments  Avith  the  catalogues  of  djmasties 
drawn  up  by  Manetho  and  by  the  Greek  chvonographers  as  to 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  15.)  33 

present  a  perfectly  trustworthy  Egyptian  clu-onolog}',  reaching 
as  far  as  the  fourth  milleniiim  before  Christ.  By  means  of  this 
chronology,  he  proposes  to  rectify,  not  only  the  dates  of  the  his- 
tories of  other  nations,  but  also  those  of  the  Bible.  He  supposes 
that  the  latter  were  not  handed  down  by  authoritative  tradition 
before  the  time  of  Solomon,  and  therefore  is  subject  of  en- 
quiry, wliich  must  yield  to  the  results  of  any  other  enquiry  that 
may  be  carried  on  with  better  appliances.  (Comp.  Bun.sen  i. 
288).  But  the  difference,  and  even  the  ojjposition,  not  only  in 
the  results  obtained,  but  even  in  the  princii)les  laid  down  by  the 
most  celebrated  students  of  Egjqjtian  history — as  exemplified  in 
the  works  of  ChampolUon,  Bunsen,  Lepsius,  BucMi,  not  to  speak 
of  Seyffartli,  whose  labours  have  never  been  sufficiently  appre- 
ciated— must  convince  every  one  that  such  anticipations  are  at 
least  premature.  The  contidence  with  which,  especially  Bunsen 
and  Lepsius,  proclaim  as  undoubted  truth  h3r^)otheBes  which  only 
rest  on  arbitrary  combinations  and  ungrounded  assumptions, 
cannot  mislead  us.  We  hold  that,  in  a  scientific  point  of  \aew, 
we  are  warranted,  in  the  meantime,  in  abiding  by  that  Biblical 
chronology,  the  trustworthiness  of  which  has  hitherto  not  been 
shaken  by  any  doubts  cast  upon  it. 

J.  Chr.  K.  Hqfmcmn  has  attempted  to  reconcile  Egyptian  and 
Biblical  chronology  (on  Egypt,  and  Isr.  Chronol.,  Nordl.  1847) 
in  a  manner  deserving  attention.  While  Bunsen  and  Lepsius 
fix  the  reign  of  Menes,  the  first  historical  king  of  Egy|"jt,  4000 
years  before  Christ,  and  hence,  according  to  Biblical  clu'onolog}% 
at  the  time  of  Adam,  Hofmann  endeavoiu's  to  show  that  in 
Manetho's  lists  of  dynasties  three  different  modes  of  calculating 
the  time  from  Menes  to  Psammenit,  each  extending  over  1651 
years,  are  mixed  up  with  each  other.  In  this  manner  he  brings 
down  the  reign  of  Menes  from  the  time  of  Adam  to  that  of 
Abraham. 

In  order  to  calculate  the  data  of  Biblical  clu-onology  during 
the  })re-Persian  period,  according  to  the  Christian  era,  we  must 
trace  Biblical  events  backwards  from  the  time  of  Cyrus  and  the 
close  of  the  Babylonian  exile.  But  it  is  often  so  difficult  to  re- 
concile these  data,  that  it  requires  thorough  and  detailed  exami- 
nation of  certain  points,  on  which  we  can  only  enter  in  detail 
when  treating  of  these  periods.  It  will  therefore  be  best  simjily 
to  follow  the  thread  of  Biblical  clironolog}^  to  investigate  diffi- 
culties as  they  occur,  to  calculate  according  to  years  of  the  world 
up  to  the  Babylonian  exile,  and  then  to  adopt  the  Christian  era. 
Only  when,  at  the  close  of  our  labours,  every  difficulty  has  been 
separately  treated,  shall  we  present,  in  a  chronological  and  syn- 
clironistic  appendix,  a  survey  of  our  general  results,  applpng 
them  also  to  the  pre-Persian  period. 

(4.)  On  the  pro\dnce,  character,  and  history  of  Biblical 
VOL.  I.  c 


34  INTRODUCTION.    (§  15.) 

Theology,  comp.  tlie  excellent  little  treatise  by  G.  Fr.  Oehler, 
Prolegomena  to  the  Theology  of  the  0.  T.,  Stuttg.  1846— the 
precursor  of  a  very  promising  work  on  this  science.  The  follow- 
ing are  the  more  important  books  on  this  subject  which  have 
hitherto  appeared : — C.  T.  Ammon  Bibl.  Theology ,  2  ed. ,  3  vols., 
Erlang.,  1801—02  ;  G.  Ph.  Ch.  Kaiser  Bibl.  Theol.,  3  vols.,  Er- 
lang.,  1814—21 ;  W.  M.  L.  de  Wette  Bibl.  Dogmatics  ol  the  0. 
and  N.  T.,  Berlin,  1813;  L.  F.  0.  Baumgorten  Crusius  ele- 
ments of  Bibl.  Theol. ,  Jena,  1828;  D.  G.  C.  v.  Colin  s  Bibl. 
Theol.,  edited  by  D.  ScJmh,  2  vols.,  Leipz.,  1836.  Vol.  i.  con- 
tains the  Theology  of  the  0.  T.  In  TV.  Vatke's  Bibl.  Theol., 
vol.  i.,  Berlin,  1835,  and  Bruno  Bauer s  Critique  of  the  History 
of  Revelation  (also  under  the  title,  the  Religion  of  the  0.  T.),  2 
vols.,  Berl.,  1838,  the  religious  history  of  the  0.  T.  is  constructed 
a  priori  on  the  ideas  of  Hegel  about  revelation.  Vatke  repre- 
sents the  religion  of  Israel  as  starting  from  the  worsliip  of  nature, 
and  becoming  that  of  Jehovah  only  under  the  later  prophets. 
K.  Chr.  Planli's  Genesis  of  Judaism,  Ulm,  1843,  has  a  similar 
object.  According  to  this  writer,  the  religion  of  Israel  had  only 
gradually  risen  above  the  dial  dee  fire-worship,  which  is  in  tiu-n 
represented  as  identical  with  the  ser\dce  of  Moloch.  This  dii-ec- 
tion  was  pushed  to  all  its  consequences  in  the  writings  of  Daumer 
("  The  Fire  and  Moloch  Worship  of  the  ancient  Hebrews,"  1842), 
and  of  GhiUany  ("  The  Hmnan  Sacrifices  of  the  ancient  He- 
brews," 1843),  but  in  a  manner  not  only  extreme,  but  even  pal- 
pably absurd. 

AU  the  above-mentioned  books  belong  to  the  rationalistic 
school,  the  members  of  which  more  or  less  misunderstand  the 
religious  import  of  the  Old  Testament.  But  the  lectures  of  J. 
Chr.  Fr.  Steudel  (on  the  Theol.  of  the  0.  T.,  edit,  by  G.  Fr. 
Oehler),  as  all  the  contributions  from  liis  pen,  are  distinguished 
by  a  reverence  for  Divine  revelation  in  the  0.  T.  unhapi^ily  too 
rare  at  that  period.  The  lectures  of  H.  A.  Chr.  Hdvemick 
on  the  Theology  of  the  0.  T.  (edited  by  iT.  A.  Hahn,  Erlang., 
1848),  are  still  more  satisfactory,  although  they  exhibit  the  de- 
fects attaching  to  a  work  which  the  author  himself  had  not  pre- 
pared for  publication.  The  learned  world  still  looks  forward  to 
the  long-expected  treatise  on  the  subject,  by  Oehler  of  Breslau. 
The  work  on  Biblical  Dogmatics,  by  J.  L.  S.  Lidz  (edited  from 
his  lectures  by  Riietschi,  Pforzheim,  1847),  indicates  great  scien- 
tific acquirements,  and  embodies  a  thoughtful  and  sober  applica- 
tion of  the  principles  and  results  of  modern  criticism  of  the  sacred 
wTitings.  J.  Chr.  K.  Hofmanns  Scriptural  Demonstration  (1st 
pt.,  Nordl.,  1852)  is  a  work  which  really  opens  a  new  treatment 
of  the  subject,  and  forms  an  era,  however  many  exceptions  may 
be  taken  on  some  special  points. 

In  bis  Christology  of  the  Old  Testament  (3  vols.,  Berlin,  1829 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  15,  16.)  35 

— 35),  E.  W.  Hengstenherg  has  treated  the  grand  suhject  of  0. 
T.  theology  on  a  purely  exegetical  plan.  This  work  has  led  to 
the  orthodox  scientific  consideration  which  the  subject  has  since 
received.  Of  great  importance,  also,  in  this  respect,  was  J.  Chr. 
K.  Hofinanns  Prophecy  and  Fulfilment  in  the  0.  and  N.  T.,  2 
vols.,  Nordlingen,  1841 — 44,  a  work  which,  from  its  arbitrary 
exegesis,  occasionally  excites  opposition,  but  on  the  whole  power- 
fully stimulates .  the  student,  and  jiromises  to  advance  and  re- 
model the  development  of  Old  Testament  theology.  It  is  spe- 
cially distinguished  for  the  energy  with  which  the  author  treats 
the  subject,  and  insists,  both  in  theory  and  in  practice,  on  the 
necessity  of  viewing  prophecy  and  history  in  their  continuous 
and  organic  unity  and  relationship.  Comp.  the  excellent  criti- 
cism of  Hofmann's  principles  and  results,  in  Delitzsch's  "  Bibl. 
Proph.  Tlieol. ,  its  development  by  Chr.  A.  Crusius,  and  its  latest 
form  since  the  appearance  of  Hengstenberg's  Christology,  Leipz. 
1845."  The  writings  of  J.  J.  Staltelin  (the  Messian.  predict, 
of  the  0.  T.  in  their  origin  and  development,  Berlin,  1847),  and 
of  Fr.  Dilsterdieck  (de  rei  prophetic^e  in  V.  Test.,  quam  uni- 
versce  tum  Messiange  natura  ethica,  Gottg.,  1852),  recognise 
indeed  the  peculiar  merits  of  Hofmann's  method  and  views,  but 
they  afford  only  a  meagre  sketch  of  the  material  presented. 
A.  Schumann's  Christ,  or  the  teaching  of  the  0.  and  N.  Test. 
about  the  person  of  the  Redeemer,  Gotha,  1852  (vol.  i.,  1 — 125, 
Christology  of  the  0.  T.),  attempts  to  combine  a  fundamental 
behef  in  Divine  revelation  with  a  refusal  to  acknowledge  the  0. 
T.  writings  as  wholly  revealed.  Among  works  by  Roman 
Cathohc  writers,  we  may  mention  the  somewhat  liberal  and 
semi-rationalistic  little  treatise  by  Jos.  Beck,  on  the  development 
and  exhil)ition  of  the  Messianic  idea  in  the  sacred  writings  of 
the  0.  T.,  Hanover,  1835,  and  the  writings  of  F7\  Herd  (Ex- 
planation of  the  Messian.  predict,  in  the  0.  T. ,  i.  1 ,  2,  Regensb. 
1837—45),  and  of  J.  Bade  (Christology  of  the  0.  T.,  3  vols., 
Miinster,  1850),  wliich  are  strictly  orthodox  in  their  adherence 
to  revelation  and  tradition,  display  industry,  but  are  defective  so 
far  as  scientific  research  is  concerned. 

§  16.  Although  the  canonical  writings  of  the  Old  Testament 
are  the  special  and  the  most  important,  they  are  not  the  only 
sources  for  which  the  historian  of  the  Old  Covenant  has  to  search, 
or  from  wliich  he  has  to  ckaw.  Next  to  them  both  as  to  the 
period  of  their  composition  and  the  spirit  which  they  breathe  are 
the  Old  Testament  Aiiocrypha,  which  may  be  considered  as 
embodying,  with  more  or  less  purity  and  vigour,  the  echo  and  the 
effects  of  that  spirit  which  gave  birth  to  the  canonical  writings.  (1) 

c  2 


36  INTRODUCTION.    (§  16.) 

Of  greater  importance,  however — although  the  latter  statement 
does  not  imply  an  equivalent  of  praise — ^for  our  purposes  are  the 
writings  of  Fl.  Josephus,  which  are  almost  the  only  trustworthy 
authority  for  the  political  aspect  of  the  age  succeeding  the  close 
of  the  prophetic  period.  (2.)  The  Talmud  affords  many  impor- 
tant supplementary  notices,  but  its  recesses  have  not  yet  been 
satisfactorily  examined.  (3.)  Jewish  Monuments^  such  as  those 
which,  in  the  history  of  other  countries,  form  so  important  a  Unk  in 
the  historical  chain,  are  unfortunately  almost  entirely  awanting 
(4)  ;  hvii  foreign,  especially  Egyptian  monimaents,  shed  a  grateful 
light  on  certain  points  which  have  to  be  discussed,  and  foreign 
authors  furnish  important  assistance  whenever  Jewish  is  brought 
into  contact  with  secular  history.  (5.) 

(1.)  Koman  Catholic  historians — such  as  B.  Weite  spec. 
Introd.  to  the  deuterocanon.  writings  of  the  0.  T.  Freibiu-g  1844 
— ^have  defended  the  historical  authenticity  of  the  Old  Testament 
Apocrypha  with  great  ability,  although  without  always  carrying 
conviction,  against  the  attacks  of  Protestants,  which  sometimes 
were  very  violent  (comp.  especially  Rainold  censura  librorum 
apocryphonim  V,  T.  adv.  Pontificios,  inpr.  Kob.  Bellarminum 
2  vols.  4.  Oppenheim  1611  ;  and  the  Introductions  of  EichJiorn 
and  of  BertJiold).  Comp.  in  defence  of  the  Apocr.  also  Aloys. 
ViTwetici  sessio  iv.  cone.  Trident,  vindicata  s.  introd.  in  scrip- 
turas  deut.  can.  V.  T.  Komae  1842 — 44. — 0.  F.  Fritzsche  and 
W.  Grimm  have  commenced  an  exegetical  manual  to  the 
Apocrypha  (1st  Part.  Leipzig  1851). 

(2.)  Flavius  Josephus  (the  Jewish  Livy)  the  son  of  Mata- 
thias  a  Jewish  priest,  belonging  to  the  sect  of  the  Pharisees,  was 
born  in  37  a.d.  His  work  on  Jewish  antiquities,  in  20  books, 
brings  down  the  history  of  liis  people  to  the  time  of  the  Emperor 
Nero.  A  histor}'"  of  the  Jewish  War,  of  which,  as  Jewish  general, 
he  was  an  eye-witness,  written  at  an  earlier  period  than  the  anti- 
quities, continues  the  history  to  the  termination  of  the  Jewish 
Commonwealth.  Besides  these  two  works  he  wrote  two  (Apo- 
logetic) treatises  against  Apio,  an  opponent  of  the  Jews  in  Alex- 
andria. The  best  edition  of  liis  works  is  that  by  Sigh.  Haver- 
kamp.  Amstel.  1726,  2  vols,  fob,  which  embodied  the  whole 
literature  on  Josephus  at  the  time  when  it  apjjeared ; — that  by 
Fr.  Oherthilr,  Leipz.  1782 — 8.5,  3  vols.,  by  K.  E.  Richter  (which 
contains  merely  the  text)  Leipz.  1826,  6  vols.,  and  latterly  by 
Dindorf  Par.  1847.  Tanchnitz  has  pubHshed  a  stereotype 
edition  of  the  text  in  6  vols.  1850.  The  historical  credibility  and 
the  value  of  his  writings  have  formerly  been  subject  of  frequent 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  IG.)  37 

controversy.  Caes.  Baronius,  Leo.  Allatius,  and  Harduln 
fiercely  attacked,  and  Sccdiger,  Gerh.  Voss,  and  Cascmhomis  as 
enthusiastically  defended  them.  Josephus  has,  indeed,  frequently 
enlarged  and  arbitrarily  changed  the  biblical  record  by  intro- 
ducing legends,  but  he  has  also  contributed  to  its  elucidation, 
and  sometimes  supplemented  its  information  on  political  ques- 
tions. His  primary  aim  was  to  present  to  educated  Komans  his 
nation  and  its  liistory  in  the  most  favourable  light.  Hence  he 
attempts  to  keep  in  the  back  groimd  its  servitude,  he  paints  in 
bright  colouring,  he  explains  away  all  that  is  miraculous  and 
might  thus  raise  objections  in  the  mind  of  heathens,  and  he 
conceals  what  to  him  appeared  the  dark  side  ;  he  ascribes  even 
to  the  patriarchs  such  wisdom  as  the  Greeks  only  possessed  at 
their  most  advanced  stage,  &c.  Although  his  work  is,  therefore, 
neither  trustworthy  nor  of  importance  for  the  more  remote  periods 
of  Jewish  history,  it  is  of  the  greatest  value  for  that  succeeding 
the  exile ;  comp.  K.  v.  Baurners  Palestine,  3  ed.,  pp.  428  following 
("  The  credibility  of  Josephus"). 

The  numerous  treatises  of  Philo,  an  Alexandrian  Jew  (born 
in  the  year  20  before  Clnrist)  are,  on  account  of  his  want  of 
acquaintance  with  Hebrew,  of  his  tendency  to  allegorise,  and  his 
attempts  at  identifying  platonic  pliilosophy  with  0.  T.  modes  of 
thinking,  almost  wholly  useless  for  our  pm-pose.  The  best  edition 
of  Philo  is  that  by  Thorn.  Mangey,  2  vols,  fob,  London  1742; 
Pfeiffei'  reprinted  the  text  with  a  Latin  translation,  in  5  vols. ,  8 
Erlang.  1785 — 92 ;  Bidder  furnished  a  complete  edition  of  the 
Greek  text  alone  in  8  vols.  Leipz.  1828 — 30.  A  stereotype  edition 
of  the  text  was  published  by  Tanclmitz,  Leipz.  1851. 

(3.)  The  Talmud  (i.e.  teaching)  is  an  important  authority 
for  the  constitution  and  development  of  Judaism  after  bibhcal 
times.  It  contains  a  complete  system  of  aU  the  religious  and 
civil  ordinances  of  the  Jews,  as  settled  by  the  traditions  and  the 
teaching  of  Jewish  sages  since  the  close  of  the  Old  Testament 
canon.  Jewish  traditionalism  consists  of  two  parts : — 1.  of  the 
Hcdacha  (i.e.  the  Rule  or  Statute)  wliich  forms  the  authorised 
and  authentic  interpretation  of  the  law.  It  is  binding,  and  may 
not  be  called  in  question.  2.  Of  the  Haggada  (i.e.  that  which 
is  told,  narrated) ,  which  properly  indicates  only  the  private  in- 
terpretation of  sages,  and  accordingly  may  be  called  in  question. 
Hence  it  only  embodies  that  wliich  was  uttered,  but  not  what  at 
the  same  time  constituted  the  Shemata  (that  which  had  been 
heard,  taught  in  the  schools).  As  it  principally  consists  of 
allegorical  interpretations,  and  therefore  generally  appears  in  the 
shape  of  parables,  fables,  legends,  &c.,  the  term  Haggada  is  often 
employed  as  equivalent  for  these  modes  of  teaching.  The  Talmud 
principally  deals  with  the  Halachoth.     It  consists  of  two  distinct 


38  INTRODUCTION.    (§  16.) 

portions: — the  Mishna  (Deuterosis,  lex  repetita),  which  con- 
stitutes the  text  of  the  work,  and  contains  the  original  traditions 
and  teaching  of  the  oldest  school,  and  the  Gemara  (i.e.  per- 
fectio,  perfecta  doctrina),  which  contains  a  later  and  full  com- 
mentary on  the  Mislma.  The  Mishna  dates  from  the  com- 
mencement of  the  3d  centmy,  and  was  compiled  by  Rabbi  Juda 
Hakkadosh,  who  belonged  to  the  school  of  HiUel,  and  presided 
over  the  academy  at  Tiberias.  It  consists  of  six  Sedarim  (series', 
orders),  which  again  are  subdivided  into  Mesiktoth  or  treatises. 
Each  Seder  has  a  title  derived  from  the  general  contents  of  the 
section,  as  for  example  Serain  (seeds),  Moed  (feasts),  &c.  The 
six  Sedarim  consist  altogether  of  63  treatises,  whose  titles  are 
again  derived  from  their  contents  (for  example  Berachoth,  Kelaim, 
&c.).  We  possess  an  excellent  Latin  translation  of  the  Mishna 
with  the  commentaries  of  Maimonides  and  Bartenora  by  Suren- 
huis,  Amst.  1698 — 1703,  6  vols,  fob, — and  a  German,  but  un- 
readable version  of  the  text  only  by  Babe,  Ausp.  1761 — 63,  6 
vols.  4.'  The  Gemara  is  twofold :  Bcdestinian  (or  Jerusalem)  and 
Babylonian.  The  former  was  completed  at  a  much  earier  period 
than  the  latter — according  to  common  statement  by  R.  Joacliim, 
in  the  3d  century.  However  references  to  much  later  personages 
and  events,  such  as  to  Diocletian,  to  JuHan,  &c.,  occm-  in  it. 
The  Babylonian  Gemara,  completed  under  the  auspices  of  Rabbins 
Aslie  and  Joses,  in  the  6th  century,  is  a  gigantic  work,  embody- 
ing the  results  of  the  most  laborious  and  minute  investigations 
of  collectors  and  expositors,  carried  on  dming  three  centmies. 
Owing  to  the  pre-eminence  of  the  Babylonian  academies  and  the 
cotemporaneous  decadence  of  those  of  Palestine,  the  Babylonian 
Gemara  obtained  special  authority,  and  is  now  generally  referred 
to  when  mention  is  made  of  the  Talmud  generally.^  All  attempts 
to  translate  the  Talmud  for  the  use  of  Christian  students  have 
hitherto  proved  ineffectual.  The  Abbe  L.  Chiarini  attempted 
to  render  the  Talmud  into  French,  Par.  1831.  Of  tliis  version 
only  two  volumes,  however,  have  aj^peared.  No  more  successful 
was  the  attempt  of  the  learned  Jew  Br  Pinner,  who  proposed  to 
publish  the  Babylonian  Talmud,  with  a  German  translation,  in 
28  foho  volumes.  Only  one  volume  of  this  work  has  appeared 
(Berl.  1842).  Comp.  also  Pinners  compenchimi  of  the  Jeru- 
salem and  the  Babylonian  Talmud,  Berlin  1832 — 1.     Seb.  Bave 

1  An  excellent  edition  of  the  Mishna,  with  German  translation  (in  Jewish 
letters),  and  a  selection  from  the  commentaries,  has  been  published  by  Dr 
.Tost,  in  6  vols.,  Berlin  1831,  &c.,  under  the  auspices  of  a  society  instituted 
for  the  purpose. — The  Tr. 

2  In  quotations  the  Jerusalem  Talmud  is  generally  distinguished  from  the 
Babylonian  by  adding  the  letter  /.  when  the  former,  and  the  letter  B.  when 
the  latter  is  referred  to. — The  Tr. 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  IG.)  39 

de  eo  quod  lidei  mereutur  monumenta   Judaeorum  sacrib  in 
untiquit,  in  Oelrich's  diss.  1.  6.^ 

(4.)  The  only  Monuments  of  Jewish  antiquity  left  us  are  a 
few  coins  dating  from  the  tunes  of  the  Maccabees,  denominated 
Samaritan  on  account  of  the  letters  used  in  their  inscriptions, 
some  ruins  of  the  foundations  of  the  temple  and  of  other  ancient 
buildings,  and  the  triumphal  arch  of  Titus  at  Koine,  with  its 
representations  of  the  spoils  taken  from  the  temple. 

(5.)  Among  the  Foreign  Nations  whose  history  comes  into 
contact  with  that  of  the  Jews,  and  about  whom  we  possess 
independent  information,  we  may  mention  the  Egj^Dtians,  the 
Phenicians,  the  Ass>Tians,  the  Babylonians,  the  Persians,  the 
Greeks,  and  the  Romans.  The  most  important  sources  of 
Egyptian  History,  both  as  regards  authenticity  and  trust- 
worthiness, are  the  Monuments,  with  wliich,  since  the  French 
expedition  to  Egyjjt,  the  learned  world  has  become  familiar. 
The  very  laborious  and  carefid  investigations  of  French,  Italian, 
British,  and  German  scholars,  have  already  been  attended  with  a 
measure  of  success  far  sm-passing  every  expectation.  The  prin- 
cipal works  on  the  subject  are :  Description  de  FEgypte  ou  recueil 
des  observations  et  des  recherches,  qui  ont  ete  fliites  en  Egypte 
pendant  I'expedition  de  larmee  frangaise.  Par.  (1809)  1821. — 
ChampoUion,  monumens  de  I'Egypte  et  de  la  Nubie.  Par.  1837 
(Comp.  the  Review  by  Gesenius  in  the  Halle  Uter.  Gaz.  1842, 
Nos.  110,  &c.,  145,  &c.) — IppoUto  lioseUini,  i  monumenti  dell' 
Egitto  e  deUa  Nubia,  designati  della  spedizione  scientif  letteraria 
Toscana  in  Egitto.  Pisa  1832,  5  vols. —  Wilkinson,  manners 
and  customs  of  the  ancient  Egy}3tians.  London  1837,  3  vols. 
Jul.  Lud.  Meiers  (Junior)  Hermapion  s.  rudimenta  hierogl. 
vet.  ^gyijtiorum  literatmaj  ii.  Partes  4,  Lips.  1841,  is  a  supple- 
ment and  adaptati(jn  of  the  material  furnished  in  these  works. 
For  the  prnposes  of  BibUcal  history  and  antiquities  these  enquiries 
have  been  largely  made  use  of  in  Taylors  Illustrations  of  the 
Bible  from  the  Monuments  of  Egypt,  London  1838,  and  more 
especially  for  the  explanation  and  vindication  of  the  Pentateuch 
in  Hengstenberg  s  Egypt  and  the  books  of  Moses,  Berl.  1841. 
The  numerous  treatises  on  Egypt  by  Seyffarth  are  not  reliable, 
despite  the  thorough  acquaintanceship  of  the  author  with  his 
subject,  on  account"  of  the  preconceived  opinions  which  give  a 
coloming  to  all  his  enquiries.  The  work  of  M.  G.  ScJiwartze, 
Ancient  Egj^t,  or  the  lang.,  hist.,  relig.,  and  constit.  of  ancient 

1  Various  Talinudical  treatises  have  been  translated  into  various  languages. 
A  recent  attempt  of  Dr  Hirschfeld's  to  publish  the  Talmud  with  Latin  notes 
has  failed  like  all  other  previous  attempts.  We  will  not  weary  the  reader 
by  enumerating  the  titles  and  translations  of  the  various  treatises.  The 
learned  labours  of  Frankel,  Geiger,  Zunz,  Delitzach,  Rappaport,  and  othcr.-i 
havo  rendered  Jewish  literature  much  more  accessible. —  The  Tr. 


40  INTRODUCTION.    (§  IG.) 

Egypt,  &c.,  Leipz.  1843-4,  vol.  i.,  sect.  1,  2  (treating  only  of  the 
language),  has  remained  incomplete. — Bich.  Lepsius,  who  had 
distinguished  himself  in  this  department  of  study  by  an  edition 
of  "  the  book  of  the  Egyptian  dead,"  Leipz.  1842  (from  a  hiero- 
glyphic papyi-us  at  Turin),  was  appointed  chief  of  a  learned 
expedition  sent  by  the  Prussian  goveriunent  to  explore  the 
antiquities  in  the  valley  of  the  Nde  (1842-46).  He  is  now, 
or  has  lately  been,  engaged  in  pubhsliing  the  results  of  his  in- 
vestigations in  his  "  Monuments  from  Egypt  and  Nubia,"  Berlin 
1850,  &C.1 

The  only  native  Egyptian  ivriter  mentioned  is  Manetho, 
who  is  stated  to  have  been  a  noble  Egyptian,  and  the  chief  of  the 
priests  at  Heliopolis.  In  composing,  at  the  request  of  Ptolemy 
Philadelphus,  his  work  on  Egyptian  history,  he  is  said  to  have 
made  use  of  the  archives  of  the  temple.  With  the  exception  of 
a  few  extracts,  preserved  in  Josephus  c.  Apionem  and  in  Eusebius' 
Chi'onicon,  and  consisting  almost  exclusively  of  lists  of  dynasties, 
this  production  has  been  wholly  lost.  The  value  to  be  attached  to 
Manetho  has  been  matter  of  much  dispute.  According  to  Heng- 
stenberg  (in  an  appendix  to  Egypt  and  the  books  of  Moses)  the 
work  is  an  intentional  fraud,  dating  from  the  time  of  the  Roman 
emperors.  Hengstenberg  attempts  to  prove  this  theory  by  shewing 
the  gross  errors  committed  by  Manetho  in  treating  of  the  religion, 
the  manners,  the  language,  and  geography  of  the  Egyptians.  But 
this  view  is  not  adopted  by  any  other  enquirer.  Against  it 
comp.  Bertheaw.  "  Contrib.  to  the  history  of  Isr.,"  pp.  227,  &c. 
The  opinion  of  Bockh  (in  his  recent  work  on  Manetho,  Berhn 
1845,  p.  7)  is  as  foUows ;  "  The  credibihty  of  Manetho  has,  up 
to  a  certain  point,  been  already  estabhshed  by  the  Egyptian 
monuments,  and  will  probably  more  and  more  appear  as  dis- 
coveries proceed."  Ohr.  C.  Jos.  Bunsen  is  an  almost  enthusiastic 
advocate  of  Manetho.  The  object  of  liis  great  Avork  on  Egj'pt 
(Egypt's  place  in  history,  3  vols.,  Hamb.  1845)  is  to  connect  the 
various  fragments  of  Egyptian  history  into  a  connected  and  har- 
monious whole,  triimiphantly  to  vindicate  the  authenticity  of 
Manetho,  to  trace  Egyptian  history,  by  a  perfectly  trustworthy 
chronological  table,  to  almost  4000  years  before  Christ,  and  to 
arrange  the  uncertain  chronology  of  aU  other  nations  according 
to  these  results.  The  three  volumes  wliich  have  hithei-to  ap- 
peared are  only  Prolegomena  ;  and,  as  eight  years  have  elapsed 
since  their  publication,  we  fear  we  must  ahnost  despair  of  the 
continuation  and  completion  of  this  work. — B.  Lepsius  attaches 
the  same  confidence  to  Manetho  (the  Chronology  of  the  Egyp- 
tians, Introduction,  and  Part  I. :  Criticism  of  the  Sources,  Berlin 

1  Among  more  recent  writers  on  this  subject  we  may  mention  Osborne, 
Kenrick,  Max.  Uhlemann,  and  others. — The  Tr. 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  1(5.)  41 

1849,  fol.) — In  the  opinion  oi  Saalsehiltz  (Contrib.  to  a  Crit.  of 
Manetho,  Konigsb.  1849),  Mauetho  is  an  honest  but  somewhat 
uncritical  compiler. 

The  Egyjjtian  history  of  Choeremon,  an  author  despised  on 
account  of  his  ignorance,  even  in  antiquity,  dates  from  the  time 
of  the  Roman  emperors.  Some  fragments  of  it,  replete  with 
legends,  are  quoted  in  Josephus  c.  Apion. 

Among  foreign  ancient  writers  on  Egyj^t  and  its  history,  the 
first  place  belongs  to  Herodot.  He  derived  his  information 
from  personal  intercourse  with  Egyptian  priests,  and  from  per- 
sonal observation  and  enquiry  in  the  country.  The  compilation 
of  Diodor.  Sicidus,  and  the  one-sided  ideal  description  of  Egyp- 
tian affairs  in  Plutarch,  are  much  less  important  and  reliable. 
Not  so  the  fragments  of  the  chronographers  Eratosthenes  and 
A'poUodorus,  preserved  by  Georgius  Syncelhis.  These,  although 
unfortunately  very  scanty,  giving  only  the  lists  of  Egyptian 
kings,  are  of  very  great  importance.  All  these  ancient  notices 
and  fragments  about  Egypt  have  been  collated  by  Stroth 
(JEgyptiaca,  Goth.,  1782). 

(6.)  Students  have  long  regarded  the  Scmcliuniaton  of  Philo 
as  the  great  native  authority  on  Phenician  aifairs.  The  gram- 
marian Phdo  Byhlius  (who  flourished  under  Nero  and  up  to  the 
time  of  Hadrian)  had  edited  a  Phenician  history,  which  he  intro- 
duced as  a  translation  of  a  work  discovered  by  him,  and  written  by 
Sanchuniaton ,  an  ancient  Phenician  sage.  Only  a  few  fragments 
of  the  work  of  Philo  have  been  preserved  by  Porphyry  and  by 
Eusehms,  in  his  praepar.  evang.  But  recent  investigations  have 
sufficiently  proved  that  the  book  of  Philo  was  itself  a  piece  of 
imposition,  devised  to  introduce  liis  peculiar  system  of  Atheism 
by  putting  it  into  the  mouth  of  a  very  ancient  author.  More 
doubtful  even  is  the  claim  of  Fr.  Wagenfeld  in  Bremen  (died 
1846),  which  at  the  time  made  so  much  noise,  who  pretended, 
by  the  intervention  of  Pereira,  a  Spanish  colonel,  to  have  obtained 
a  complete  copy  of  the  manuscript  of  Philo  Sanchuniaton  from 
the  Portuguese  monastery  of  Santa  Maria  de  Merinhao.  Wagen- 
feld first  published  in  German  a  compendimn  of  the  pretended 
manuscript  of  Philo,  with  a  preface  by  G.  F.  Grotefend,  Han- 
over, 1836  ;  and  when  accused  of  fraud,  and  pressed,  he  printed 
what  he  designated  as  the  original  Greek  text,  with  a,  Latin 
translation  (Brem.  1837).  But  this  contained  little  that  was 
either  new  or  of  any  importance.  But  although  well  wi'itten, 
the  gross  grammatical  and  historical  bhmders  occurring  in  it 
almost  gave  certainty  to  the  suspicions  formerly  attaching  to  its 
genuineness.  Oomp.  K.  L.  Grot ef end.  "  The  dispute  about 
Sanchuniaton,  viewed  in  the  light  of  an  unpublished  correspond.," 
Hann.,   1836;    Schmidt   von   LiibecJc,    "the   newly    discovered 


42  INTRODUCTION.    (§  16.) 

Sanchun.,"  Altona,  1838;  Hengstenberg  Contrib.  ii.,  209.,  &c.  ; 
Movers'  "  Spurious  character  of  the  fragments  of  Sanchuniaton," 
in  the  Bonn  Annals  for  Theolog.  and  Philos.,  and  the  work  by 
the  same  author  on  the  Phenicians,  i.  116,  &c.  ;  H.  JEwald, 
Dissert,  on  the  views  of  the  Phenic.  on  the  creation  of  the  world, 
and  the  histor.  value  of  Sanchun. ,  in  vol.  v.  of  the  transac.  of  the 
Royal  Soc.  of  Sc,  in  Gottg.,  1851. 

All  the  information  wliich  we  possess  about  the  religion  and 
the  history  of  the  Phenicians  is  embodied  in  the  classical  work  of 
F.  a  Movers,  "  The  Phenicians,"  vol.  i.,  Bonn.,  1841,  vol.  ii.,  1, 2, 
Berl.,  1849—50,  &c.  ^ 

(7.)  Berosus,  a  priest  of  Belus,  at  Babylon,  who  probably 
flourished  mider  the  first  Ptolemies,  is  the  principal  native 
Chaldee  writer  with  whose  works  we  are  acquainted.  He  com- 
posed three  books  of  Ba/BvXaviKa  (of  which  only  fragments  are 
extant  in  Josephus,  c.  Ap.,  and  in  Eusebius'  praej).  evang.,  and 
which  Richter  has  edited  in  a  collected  form  in  1825.)  His  ac- 
count is  of  special  importance  so  far  as  Assyrian,  Median,  and 
Babylonian  history  are  concerned.  His  notices  of  most  ancient 
history  correspond  in  so  remarkable  a  manner  with  those  con- 
tained in  the  book  of  Genesis,  that  it  must  at  once  occiu-  that 
Berosus  had  partly  been  indebted  to  the  Pentateuch.  The  few 
fragments  of  another  native  author,  Ahydenus  {wepl  Tr}<?  tmv 
XaXhaifov  /SacriXeias:),  preserved  by  Eusebius,  possess  little  real 
value.  The  Greek  writers  furnish  only  few  incidental  and  not 
always  trustworthy  notices  about  Assyi'ian  and  Babylonian  his- 
tory. The  most  important  of  these  are  the  fragments  of  Ktesias. 
Comp.  Perizonius,  origines  Babylonicte  (to  this  day  a  standard 
work)  ;  PahnhlaU,  de  rebus  Babylonicis,  Upsal.  1821  ;  Mi'mter, 
the  religion  of  the  Babylonians,  Kopenh.,  1827;  also  Movers 
Phenicians,  vol.  ii.  ;  and  P.  F.  Stuhr  in  his  work  on  the  Eeli- 
gious  Systems  of  the  East,  Berlin,  1856. 

We  do  not  possess  any  Ancient  Persian  historical  work  com- 
posed by  a  native  author.  The  most  reliable  authority  is  Ktesias, 
the  physician  of  King  Artaxerxes  Mnemon.  That  monarch  gave 
him  access  to  the  Persian  arcliives.  He  comj^osed  twenty-three 
books  of  JJepcriKd,  of  which  the  first  six  contain  a  liistory  of  the 
Assyrian  monarchy.  Diodorus,  Athenseus,  and  Plutarch,  have 
preserved  considerable  portions,  and  Photius  scanty  fragments  of 
this  work.  Next  to  Ktesias  in  importance,  are  the  notices  of 
Heredot.,  Xenophon,  and  Arrianus.  A  careful  compilation  of 
all  ancient  notices  about  Persia  is  furnished  in  Brissonius  de 
regio  Persarum  principatu,  Arg.,  1710;  Hyde,  de  relig.  vett. 
Persarum,  Oxon,  1704.  Anquetil  du  Perron  brought  the  Zen- 
davesta  in  1762  to  Europe,  and  in  1771  gave  a  French  transla- 
tion of  it  (transl.  into  German  by  Kleuker,  1776,  3  vols.  4). 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARY  SCIENCES.    (§  16.)  43 

The  original  was  published  by  Bournovf  in  Paris  in  1828. 
lihode's  Religious  System  of  the  ancient  Bactrians,  Persians,  and 
Medes,  Franld'.,  1826,  is  not  very  trustworthy.  The  subject  is 
more  satisfactorily  treated  in  Stuhr's  Religious  Systems  of  the 
East. 

A  new  era  in  the  study  of  AssjTian,  Babylonian,  and  Persian 
antiquity  commenced  with  the  investigations  made  by  Le  Brim, 
Niehulir,  Ker  Porter,  Bich,  ScJmlz,  &c.,  into  the  inscriptions  on 
the  monuments  in  these  countries.  The  attemjjts  of  Grotefend, 
Bownouf,  Lassen,  Raivlinson,  and  Westergaard  to  decipher  the 
Persian  cuneiform  inscriptions  had  been  almost  crowned  with 
entire  success,  when  the  excavations  of  Botta  and  Layard,  which 
indicated  the  site  of  ancient  Nineveh,  produced  the  most  astonish- 
ing results.  When  scliolars  shall  have  succeeded  in  reading  the 
various  lands  of  cuneiform  inscriptions  wliich  cover  the  monu- 
ments which  have  already,  or  wliich  shall  yet  be  excavated,  we 
shall  be  in  possession  of  an  amomit  of  information  on  the  ancient 
Asiatic  nations  and  states  more  ample  and  extensive  even  than 
that  which  we  possess  about  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  fresh 
light  ^\\\\  be  shed  even  upon  Biblical  antiquities.  Comp.  the 
large  and  splendid  woriv  by  Flaudhi  and  Botta,  monumens  de 
Ninive,  Par.,  5  vols.  fol. ;  A.  H.  Layard,  "  Mneveh  and  its  Re- 
mains ;"  Popular  Account  of  the  Excavations  at  Nineveh,  by  the 
same  author ;  W.  8.  W.  Vaux,  Nineveh  and  PersepoKs,  a  liis- 
torical  sketch  of  ancient  Assyria  and  Persia,  London,  1855  ;  J. 
Blackhurn,  Nineveh,  its  Rise  and  Ruins,  as  illustrated  by  ancient 
Scripture  and  modern  discoveries,  Lond.,  1850.^ 

(8.)  On  the  points  of  contact  with  Greek  and  Roman  history, 
compare  the  later  Greek  and  Roman  wi'iters.  But  their  occa- 
sional notices  about  the  internal  history  of  the  Jews  are  full  of 
misrepresentations,  originating  in  personal  aversion  and  in  mani- 
fest misunderstanding.  The  same  remark  applies  to  certain 
authors  who  have,  "  ex  2)rofesso,"  treated  of  Jewish  history,  such 
as  Alexander  Polyhistor,  Apollonius  3Iolo,  Aristaeus,  Arta- 
pamcs,  Eupolemus;  Hecataeus  Ahderita,  fragments  of  whose 
writings  are  preserved  by  Josephus,  but  especially  in  Eusebius' 
prffip.  evang.  1.  ix.  Comp.  Schudt  compend.  hist.  jud.  potissi- 
muin  ex  gentihum  script,  collectum,  Francof ,  1 700 ;  and  Fr. 
G.  Meier  Judaica,  Jen.,  1832,  wliich,  however,  are  incomj^lete 
collections  of  the  various  notices  and  fragments  of  notices  on 
Jewish  history  by  profane  writers. 

^  Since  the  appearance  of  the  first  edition  of  this  book,  a  number  of  other 
books  on  this  subject  have  appeared.  We  specially  mention  "  Layard's  Dis- 
coveries in  the  Ruins  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon,"  and  "Loftus  Chaldsea  and 
Susiana."  Other  writers  are  so  well  known  to  Biblical  and  other  students  as 
not  to  require  special  mention. — The  Tr. 


44  INTRODUCTION.    (§  17.) 

For  comparing  the  present  state  of  the  various  lands  adverted 
to  in  holy  writ,  with  the  statements  of  Scripture  itself,  the  best 
work  is  Dr  Alexander  Keith's  Fulfilment  of  Prophecy,  Edin- 
burgh. 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

§  17.  The  Je^vish  Antiquities  of  Flavins  Josephus  (v.  §  16, 
2)  may  be  considered  the  first  attempt  at  a  regular  Old  Tes- 
tament history.  Among  Christian  authors,  we  notice  Sulpicius 
Severus,  an  African  Presbyter  of  the  fourth  centmy,  who  com- 
posed a  compendium,  wliich,  in  elegance  of  style,  aims  to  emu- 
late Sallust.  Most  of  the  writers  of  chronicles  and  ecclesiastical 
histories  in  the  middle  ages  commenced  their  narratives  with  the 
creation  of  the  world,  and  hence  treated  also  of  Old  Testament 
liistory,  though  in  a  manner  whoUy  uncritical  and  unscientific. 
With  the  Eeformation  commenced  a  new  stage  in  ecclesiastical 
liistory.  But  as  the  religious  contests  of  that  period  did  not 
draw  special  attention  to  the  study  of  the  Old  Testament,  the 
movement  then  begun  did  not  affect  tliis  branch  of  history. 
Among  the  numerous  annals  of  the  seventeenth  century,  which 
treated  especially  of  the  harmony  of  Biblical  and  secular  history, 
the  work  of  Bishop  Usher  deserves  special  attention,  and  still 
retains  its  place.  The  works  of  Prideaux  and  Shukford  (sup- 
plemented by  Lange  and  latterly  by  Bussel)  are  meritorious. 
They  are  meant  to  show  the  substantial  and  chronological  agree- 
ment between  the  classics  of  foreign  nations  and  the  accounts  of 
the  Bible.  Without  entering  on  secular  history  generally,  and  as 
a  first  part  of  general  ecclesiastical  history,  the  following  writers 
treated  of  Old  Testament  history.  Among  Protestants,  J.  Bas- 
nage,  Camp.  Vitringa,  and  Fred.  Spanheim  ;  among  Koman 
Cathohcs,  Natalis  Alexander  and  Aug.  Calmet.  The  excellent 
history  ofBuddeus,  which  has  not  yet  been  superseded,  far  exceeds 
in  merit  the  other  works  which  we  have  named.  The  work  of 
Ranibach  has  rather  a  devotional  and  practical  than  a  scientific 
turn,  but  deserves  notice  as  specially  suited  for  such  purposes. 
All  these  works  are  not  less  distinguished  by  genuine  faith  than 
by  industry,  and  thorough  and  conscientious  investigation.  But 
their  historical  criticism  labours  under  the  defects  connected  with 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OJ.U  COVENANT.    (§   17.)  45 

the  peculiar  stand-point  which  theological  orthodoxy  occupied  at 
that  time.  Their  historical  misconceptions  arose  principally 
from  the  mechanical  theory  attaching  to  the  idea  of  inspiration 
and  of  revelation,  which  completely  excluded  the  exercise  of 
man's  individuality  and  activity,  both  in  the  reception  and  in 
the  delivery  of  the  Divine  revelation.  The  consequence  of  this 
was,  that  the  organic  progress  in  the  Divine  revelation  of  the 
plan  of  salvation  remained  unnoticed,  that  the  different  modes 
in  which  those  who  were  the  media  of  revelation  regarded  the 
truth  were  overlooked,  instead  of  being  viewed  as  supplementary 
of  each  other,  and  that  it  was  ignored  that  knowledge  of  salva- 
tion was  necessarily  defective  among  the  men  of  God  under  the 
old  covenant.  With  this  unfounded  over-estimate  of  Judaism, 
a  corresponding  and  still  greater  under-estimate  of  heathenism 
was  connected.  All  deeper  elements  in  heathenism  and  in  hea- 
then religions  were  overlooked,  and  the  latter  only  regarded  as 
devilish  darkness  and  lies. 

(1.)  The  best  editions  of  the  sacra  historia  oi  Sulpicius  Severus 
are  those  by  Sclwttgen  (Lips.  1709)  and  H.  de  Prato  (Veron. 
1741-54,  2  vols.  4.)  The  Commentary  by  Chr.  Scliotanus 
biblioth.  hist.  s.  V.  T,  s.  exercit.  ss.  in  s.  scr.  et  Joseph,  per 
modum  comment,  in  hist.  s.  Sulp.  Sev.,  Franequ.  1662-64,  2 
vol.  fol.)  is  comprehensive,  but  too  extended  and  not  sufficiently 
arranged. 

(2.)  Hum'plirey  Prideaux,  the  Old  and  New  Test,  connected 
in  the  history  of  the  Jews  and  neighbouring  nations,  from  the 
declension  of  the  kingdoms  of  Israel  and  Judah  to  the  time  of 
Christ,  2  vols.,  London  1716-18. — Sam.  Slmkford,  the  sacred 
and  profane  hist,  of  the  world  connected,  from  the  creation  to 
the  dissolution  of  the  Assyrian  empire,  3  vols.,  London  1728-38. 
The  work  of  Shukford  only  extended  to  the  death  of  Joshua. 
Tliis  hiatus  was  filled  first  by  Lange,  in  his  attempt  at  a  har- 
mony of  sacred  and  profane  writers,  in  the  hist,  of  the  world, 
from  the  times  of  the  Judges  to  the  decline  of  the  kingd.  of  Isr., 
Bayi-euth  1775-80,  3  vols.  ;  and  latterly  by  31.  Russell,  in  "the 
connexion  of  sacred  and  profane  history,  from  the  death  of 
Joshua  until  the  decline  of  the  kingdoms  of  Isr.  and  Judah," 
London  1827,  2  vols. 

(3.)  Fr.  Spanhemn,  hist,  ecclest.  vet.  Test.  In  the  first 
volume  of  his  Opera,  Lugd.  Bat.  1701,  fol. — Camp.  Vitringa, 
hypotyposis  hist,  et  chronol.  s.  (1698.) — Jac.  Basnage,  hist,  du 
vieux  et  du  nouv.  test.,  Amst.  1704,  fol. 


46  INTRODUCTION.    (§  18.) 

Nat.  Alexandre,  hist,  ecclest.  veteris  et  novi.  Test.  (1676.) 
The  best  edit.,  Bing.  1784,  20  vols.  4. — Aug.  Calmet,  hist,  de 
lane,  et  du  nouv.  test.,  Paris  1718,  2  vols.  4. — ./.  F^^anc.  Buddei 
hist,  eccles.  V.  T.  (1715),  ed.  iv.,  1744,  2  vols.  4.— J.  Jac. 
JRanihach,  collegium  hist.  eccl.  V.  T.,  or  Discourse  on  the  ecclest. 
hist,  of  the  0.  T.,  edited  by  Fr.  Neuhauer,  Frkft.  1737,  2  vols. 

§  18.  English  Deism,  which  attained  its  climax  in  the  first 
half  of  the  18th  century,  attempted  to  prove  itself  the  champion 
of  enlightenment  chiefly  by  peculiar  comments  on  bibhcal 
history.  Next,  French  Naturalism  (the  system  of  the  Ency- 
clopgedists),  addressed  itself  to  the  same  task,  by  endeavouring 
to  popularise  the  superficial  rational  criticism  of  its  predecessor, 
by  means  of  its  own  peculiar  "  esprit"  of  levity.  Saurin,  Stack- 
house,  and  Lilienthal  were  the  ablest  opponents  of  this  Deism, 
and  chiefly  addressed  themselves  to  the  vindication  of  Bibhcal 
history.  An  imperfect  and  one-sided  study  of  apologetics  only 
gave  a  stronger  impulse  to  the  peculiar  spirit  of  those  times,  and 
opened  the  way  to  Deism  and  Natm-alism  among  the  theologians 
of  Germany.  Under  the  name  of  Eationalism  it  soon  ob- 
tained to  almost  exclusive  dominion.  Here  also  the  champions 
of  so-called  enlightenment  aimed  their  critical  missiles  principally 
against  the  Old  Testament,  its  miracles  and  revelations.  The 
intellectual  impotency  of  RationaHsm  appears  most  clearly  in 
this,  that  even  those  portions  of  Bibhcal,  and  especially  of  Old 
Testament  history — such  as  the  pohtical  relations  of  the  Jewish 
nation  and  state,  their  connections  with  foreign  nations — which  are 
important  and  interesting,  even  to  enquirers  who  deny  the  Divine 
revelation,  remained  whoUy  unnoticed.  Rationalistic  hterature 
produced,  up  to  about  the  year  1820,  scarcely  a  single  monu- 
ment of  real  historical  enquiry  either  important  at  the  time  or 
lasting.  The  rationalistic  works  on  Old  Testament  history 
dating  from  that  period  have  long  ago  lost  all  interest,  if,  indeed, 
they  had  ever  possessed  any. 

The  last  able  representatives  of  orthodoxy  were  Alb.  Bengel 
and  Christ.  Aug.  Crusius.  Full  of  pietistic  devoutness,  free 
from  scholastic  dogmatism,  and  not  sharing  in  that  merely 
mechanical  view  of  liistory  pecuHar  to  a  former  stage  of  orthodoxy, 
yet  retaining  the  behef  of  the  Chm'ch,  they  deserved  to  become 
and  were  capable  of  forming  the  hopeful  commencement  of  a 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  18.)  47 

new  development  in  theological  science.  But  their  age  was 
neither  able  nor  prepared  to  comprehend  or  to  follow  them. 
This  remark  applies  specially  to  Crusius,  who  was  the  first  to 
propound  the  principles  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  proper 
historical  conception  and  treatment  of  the  facts  connected  with 
salvation.  But  the  attempts  made  by  them  had  to  give  way 
before  a  lukewarm  supernaturalism  which  now  entered  the  lists 
against  those  who  denied  the  truth  of  revelation.  vStill  some, 
who  had  preserved  much  of  the  salt  of  the  Gospel,  busied  them- 
selves wdth  the  study  of  Old  Testament  history.  Among  their 
writings  we  specially  mention  the  excellent  work  of  the  Wur- 
temberg  divine,  Magn.  Fred.  Boos,  who,  however,  was  ratlier  of 
a  practical  than  of  a  scientific  turn,  and  that  of  the  Mecklenburg 
pastor,  Ban.  J.  Kojjpen,  which  recalls  the  infiexible  firmness  of 
former  orthodoxy.  The  comprehensive  history  of  Israel  by  J. 
Hess  of  Zurich  did  not,  indeed,  wholly  escape  the  contaminating 
influence  of  the  spirit  of  the  times.  StiU,  it  is  distinguished 
by  pious  reverence  for  the  word  of  God,  by  the  ability  with 
which  the  most  minute  traits  are  caught,  so  as,  in  their 
combination,  to  form  an  attractive  and  lively  portraiture.  The 
general  plan  of,  and  the  progress  in,  the  history  of  the  Old 
Test.,  is  pointed  out,  although  generally  only  in  the  spirit  of 
pragmatism  prevalent  in  his  time. — The  Roman  Catholic  writer, 
J.  JaJm,  followed  in  his  wake,  but  wanted  his  depth  both  of 
intellect  and  of  faith.  Indeed,  he  was  whoUy  smitten  with  the 
peculiar  weakness  of  the  Supernaturalism  then  current.  A  very 
difterent  spirit  breathes  in  the  work  of  the  noble-minded  Stolherg, 
a  convert  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  but  a  man  fuU  of  intensity 
and  joyousness  of  faith  to  a  degree  scarcely  met  in  any  other 
writer  of  that  period. 

(1.)  Saurin  discours  historiques,  theologiques  et  moraux  sur 
les  evenemens  les  plus  remarquables  du  V.  et  N.  Test.,  con- 
tinued by  Du  Boqiies  and  Beausohre  1720,  &c.,  transl.  into 
German  with  addit.  by  F.  E.  Bambach,  4  vols.  4,  Rostock  1752, 
&c. — Thomas  SfacJchouse,  Defence  of  the  history  of  the  Bible 
(newly  edited  by  Gleig) — Th.  Clir.  Lilienthal,  the  good  cause  of 
Divine  Revelat.  vindicated  against  its  enemies,  l(j  vols.,  Konigsb. 
1760—82.  Herder—in  his  letters  on  tlie  study  of  Theol.  i.  4— 
riglitly  refers  in  the  following  terms  to  this  work,  which  still  pos- 
sesses authoritv  :  "  We  have  in  Germanv  one  wlio  has  vindicuted 


48  INTRODUCTION.    (§  18,  19.) 

Scripture,  one  whom  foreigners  may  well  covet — so  quietly  and 
without  excitement  did  he  teach.  His  '  good  cause  of  Revelation' 
is  a  perfect  library  of  opinions  ^wo  and  con.,  a  sea  of  learning 
and  a  survey  of  objections  and  rephes  to  them,  a  real  Moreh 
NevocMm  (doctor  perplexorum)  for  these  writings." 

(2.)  Alb.  Bengel,  1.  c.  (v.  §  13.  3).  Chr.  Aug.  Crusius 
hypomnemata  ad  theolog.,  prophet.,  3  vol.,  Lpz.  1764,  &c. ; — 
comp.  the  work  (mentioned  above  §  15.  4.)  hj  Belitzsch  on  bibl. 
and  prophet.  Theol. 

(3.)  Magn.  Fr.  Boos,  Introduct.  to  bibl.  liistory  up  to  the  time 
of  Abraham, — and  his  footsteps  of  the  Faith  of  Abraham  in  the 
biographies  of  the  patriarchs  and  prophets.  New  edit.  Tubing. 
1835 — 38,  3  vols. — D.  J.  Koppen,  the  Bible,  a  work  of  Div. 
Inspir.,  3d  edit.,  with  notes  by  J.  G.  Scheihel,  Lpz.  1837,  2  vols. — 
J.  J.  Hess,  Hist,  of  Israel  before  the  time  of  Christ,  12  vols., 
Ziirich  1776 — 88  ;  The  Kingdom  of  God  (by  the  .same  author), 
Ziirich  1795,  2  vols. ;  Substance  of  the  doctr.  about  the  Kingdom 
of  God  (by  the  same),  Zurich  1826  ;  Libr.  of  sacred  hist,  (by  the 
same),  Frankf.  and  Leipz.  1791,  2  vols. — J.  Jahn,  bibl  Archaeo- 
logy (vol.  ii.,  1  2.  polit.  antiq.,  with  Jew.  Hist.,  Vienna 
1800 — 01). — Leop.  von  Stolherg,  hist,  of  the  rehg.  of  Jesus 
(vol.  i.— iv.,  hist,  of  the  Old  Test.)  Hamb.  1806,  &c. 

§  19.  Despite  its  incapacity  of  producing  anytliing  lasting,  and 
the  mischief  which  it  had  wrought  both  in  Theology  and  in  the 
Church,  Rationalism  was  not  wholly  without  influence  for  good 
on  theological  science.  The  orthodox  mode  of  treating  the  his- 
tory of  salvation  was  also  benefitted  thereby.  Theologians 
had  learned,  what  had  formerly  been  ignored  by  the  orthodox, 
to  view  the  Scriptures  and  sacred  history  in  their  human 
aspect  and  bearing  also.  Thus  dogmatic  bigotry  passed  away, 
and  the  idea  attaching  to  inspiration  was  no  longer  that  of  the 
mechanical  theory.  To  these  impulses  must  be  added  those 
connected  with  the  religious  improvement  in  the  spirit  of  the  age, 
consequent  on  the.  German  wars  of  liberation,  and  with  the  mighty 
progress  wliich  secular  science  had  made  during  the  first  decades 
of  our  century.  Besides,  the  deep  researches  into  profane  his- 
tory, a  better  appreciation  of  heathenism,  more  thorough  philo- 
logical investigations,  &c.,  exercised  all  a  most  beneficial  influ- 
ence on  theological  science.  More  particularly  with  reference  to 
the  Old  Testament,  Steudel  formed  the  transition  from  mere 
supranaturalism  to  modern  orthodox  and  scientific  Theology. 
But  this  divine,  so  eminent  for  his  piety  and  talent,  was  still  in 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  19.)  49 

part  warped  by  the  peculiarities  of  tlie  system  which  was  hence- 
forth to  be  rehnquished.  Much  more  powerful  and  energetic 
proved  the  influence  of  Hengstenherg  (since  1829),  constituting 
an  era  in  the  revival  of  orthodox  investigation  into  the  Old 
Testament.  Since  that  time  the  resources  of  scientific  investi- 
gation have  increased  year  by  year.  Among  its  champions 
Hofmann  is  specially  distinguished,  and  indeed  occupies  a  place 
of  Ills  Gwxi,  as  the  representative  of  a  new  scientific  stand-point. 
But  notwithstanding  the  ahnost  indefatigable  activity  of  that 
school,  the  entire  Old  Testament  history  had  not  hitherto  been 
treated  in  a  scientific  and  learned  manner,  although  a  considerable 
number  of  preparatory  works  have  appeared.  We  may,  however, 
call  attention  to  some  popular  books  on  the  history  of  salvation 
among  them,  especially  to  those  by  Zahn,  Kalhar,  Ziegler,  and 
by  the  author  of  this  work.  The  little  work  by  Ziegler  deserves 
particular  notice,  as  distinguished  for  profound  views,  and  for  its 
organic  arrangement  of  Old  Test,  history,  on  the  basis  of  the 
principles  laid  down  by  Hamami. 

But  the  opposite  party  numbers  also  many  and  very  able  stu- 
dents of  the  Old  Testament.  Faithful  to  the  negative  tendency 
of  their  school,  some  attempt  to  develope  their  principles  more 
cautiously,  others  in  a  reckless  and  merely  destructive  spirit. 
The  latest  works  which  have  appeared  on  Jewish  History  gene- 
rally belong  to  this  school.  They  deny  the  immediate  operation 
and  influence  of  the  Divine  element  in  0.  T.  history,  and  reduce 
all  to  natural  and  ordinary  causes  of  development.  H.  Leos 
Lectures  on  Jewish  history  (1828),  distinguished  for  their  bold- 
ness, talent,  and  power  of  conception  and  execution,  would  reduce 
the  peculiar  elements  of  Jewish  History  to  hierarchism  and 
priestly  imposture.  The  able  author  of  this  work  has,  however, 
long  since  acknowledged — both  by  word  and  deed — that  this 
mode  of  viewing  the  subject  had  been  totally  false.  The  histori- 
cal articles  in  "  Winers  Real-Lexicon"  are,  as  indeed  tlie  whole 
work  is,  models  for  the  indefatigable  industry  displayed,  for  the 
trustworthy  authorities  adduced,  for  the  variety  of  material,  for 
the  study  of  the  whole  literature  of  a  subject  embodied  in  tlicin, 
for  their  moderation  and  caution  of  criticism,  and  for  manifest 
readiness  to  profit  even  by  the  writings  of  opponents.  The 
historical  treatise  of  Bertheau  deserves  special  notice  and  praise, 

VOL.   I.  D 


50  INTRODUCTION.    (§  19.) 

on  account  of  its  thoughtful  and  thorough  investigation  of  the 
political  and  industrial  aspects  of  Jewish  history.  The  work  of 
Etvald  is  not  a  negative  and  sceptical  view  of  this  subject,  but 
an  attempt  at  vivid  apprehension  of  history  as  a  purely  natural 
process  of  development,  and  at  a  historical  reproduction  of  this 
process.  Throughout,  his  work  is  full  of  fresh  and  vigorous 
enthusiasm  for  the  subject.  But  it  proceeds  on  a  subjective  and 
arbitrary  criticism,  which  at  the  same  time,  however,  affects  an 
air  of  omniscience  and  of  infallibihty.  The  historical  work  of 
Lengerke  is  comprehensive  in  its  plan,  but  much  inferior  to  the 
two  which  we  have  just  mentioned,  both  in  point  of  independent 
investigation  and  of  original  conception.  Its  merits  are  industry 
in  compilation,  extensive  materials,  and  great  calmness  and 
moderation.  The  attempt  of  Redsloh  to  construct  a  history  of 
Jevsdsh  antiquity  on  the  basis  of  very  arbitrary  etymological 
interpretations  of  the  names  of  Old  Testament  personages  and 
nations,  setting  aside  all  biblical  notices,  is  really  the  climax  of 
critical  absurdity.  The  Jewish  history  of  Dr  Jost  is  written 
from  the  modern  Jewish  stand-point. 

(1.)  J.  Chr.  Ft.  Steudel,  Glances  at  the  Old  Test.  Eevel.,  in 
the  Tubingen  Journal  of  Theol.,  1835  ;  and  his  Lectures  on 
Old  Test.  Theol.  The  works  of  Hengstenherg  and  of  Hofmann 
have  in  part  already  been,  and  will  in  the  sequel  be  farther,  re- 
ferred to. 

(2.)  jP.  L.  Zahn,  the  Kingdom  of  Grod  on  earth,  3d  ed.,  vol. 
i.,  Meurs,  1838;  Chr.  H.  Kalkar,  Biblical  Hist.,  in  Lectures 
addressed  to  educated  persons,  Kiel,  1839,  2  vols.  \  J.  F.  A. 
Ziegler,  Hist.  Development  of  Div.  Kevel.  in  its  principal  phases, 
viewed  speculatively,  Nordl.,  1842;  J.  H.  Kurtz,  Manual  of 
Sacred  Hist.,  a  guide  to  the  proper  understanding  of  the  Divine 
plan  of  redemption,  6th  edit.,  Konigsb.,  1853. 

(3.)  G.  Ben.  Winer  bibl.  Keal-Lexicon,  2  vols.,  3d  ed.  1847. 
E.  Bertlieau,  Contrib.  to  the  Hist,  of  Israel,  2  Dissert.,  of  which 
the  second  bears  the  title,  "  The  Inhabitants  of  Palest.,  from  the 
most  ancient  times  to  the  Destruct.  of  Jerus.  by  the  Komans," 
Gottg.  1842.  H.  Etvald,  History  of  the  people  of  Israel  to 
the  time  of  Christ,  Gott.,  1843,  &c.,  3  vols.  (The  third  vol. 
consists  of  two  parts.  A  special  part,  in  the  form  of  an  appendix 
to  vol.  ii.,  treats  of  the  antiquities  of  the  people.  The  work  has 
since  passed  through  a  second  edition).  Ces  von  Lengerke, 
Kenaan,  a  history  of  the  people  and  of  the  religion  of  Israel,  vol. 
i.,  Konigsb.,  1844.     Redsloh,  the  Old  Testament  names  of  the 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  19.)  f)! 

population,  Loth  of  the  real  and  of  tlie  ideal  Jewish  common- 
wealth, Haml).,  1846.  J.  M.  Jost,  Hist,  of  the  Isr.  Nation  to 
our  own  times,  Berl.,  1832,  2  vols.^ 

1  A  large  number  of  other  works  have  since  appeared,  of  which  we  shall 
only  mention  the  most  prominent.  Kittos  Bibl.  Encyclop.,  of  which  a  new 
edition  has  lately  appeared  (by  Dr  Burgess),  is,  in  point  of  thoroughness, 
not  equal  to  the  work  of  Dr  Winer,  which  it  frequently  follows  very  impli- 
citly. Especially  docs  it  furnish  much  fewer  data  to  assist  the  student  in 
making  farther  investigations.  But  it  abounds  in  modern  illustrations,  and, 
generally  speaking,  is  a  work  which,  from  its  plan  and  execution,  deserves 
the  notice  and  respect  of  every  Biblical  student.  The  other  English  ency- 
clopasdias  are  chiefly  for  popular  use.  Dr  Herzog's  great  "  Real  Encyclo- 
paedia for  Protestant  Church  and  Theology,"  (of  which  a  condensed  transla- 
tion appears  in  America  and  in  Edinburgh,  T.  and  T.  Clark)  is  a  work  every 
way  worthy  of  the  cause,  of  the  writers  engaged  in  it,  and  of  the  learned 
editor.  So  far  as  it  has  hitherto  proceeded,  it  may  indeed  be  characterised  as 
leaving  little  to  be  desired.  Among  other  subjects  connected  with  theology, 
it  of  course  gives  due  prominence  to  all  BiblicAl  questions.  Among  other 
writers  on  Jevsdsh  history,  we  may  mention  Prof.  Neunnann,  whose  work 
(History  of  the  Hebrew  Monarchy)  is  conceived  in  the  peculiarly  negative 
strain  of  his  school ;  Maurice's  "  Prophets  and  Kings  of  the  Old  Testament," 
which  exhibit  the  mental  excellencies  and  the  theological  characteristics  of 
that  author ;  Smith  (Sacred  Annals :  The  Hebrew  People,  or  History  and 
Religion  of  the  Israelites) ;  Dr  Baphall  (Biblical  History  of  the  Jews,  from 
420  B.C.  to  70  A.c.)  an  American  Jewish  writer,  whose  history  ignores  Chris- 
tianity, and  combines  an  incredible  amount  of  self-sufficiency  with  defective 
study  and  want  of  accuracy.  The  "  History  of  the  Jewish  Nation,"  by  the 
Translator  of  this  volume  (2d  ed.,  Edinburgh,  T.  Constable  and  Co.,  1857), 
properly  commences  afier  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  attempts  to  give 
a  complete  survey  of  Jewish  manners — of  family,  social,  and  political  life — 
of  commerce,  trades,  arts,  sciences,  theology,  &c.,  from  the  time  of  Christ, 
making  continual  reference  to  previous  periods.  Among  more  popular  works, 
we  may  mention  Dr  Kitto's  Hist,  of  Palestine  (London,  Ch.  Knight,  1850) ; 
The  Scripture  Lands,  by  the  same  author  (London,  Bohn,  1850)  ;  Rev.  W. 
Brooks'  Hebrew  Nation  (London,  Seeley's,  1841) ;  and  others.  In  German 
or  French  a  number  of  works  on  special  periods  of  Jewish  history  have  ap- 
peared (such  as  those  of  Salvador,  of  Herzfeld,  of  Eisenlohr,  &c.),  to  which 
reference  may  be  made  when  treating  of  the  periods  on  which  they  respec- 
tively bear. — The  Th. 


o2 


I 


II. 


PREPARATORY  HISTORY 


OLD  COVENANT. 


(  sr)  ) 


PROYIKCE  OF  THE  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.— PTS 
SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARIES. 


§  20.  The  preparatory  history  of  the  Old  Covenant  is  also  at 
the  same  tinie  the  primeval  history  of  manldnd.  It  comprises 
an  account  of  the  first  developments  of  the  whole  race,  to  the 
period  when  heathenism  and  Judaism  diverge  in  different  direc- 
tions. But  it  does  not  fall  witliin  its  province  to  trace,  in  all 
their  relations,  the  developments  of  this  period,  which  offers  so 
many  problems,  part  of  which  are  not  yet  solved.  It  follows 
them  only  so  far  as  they  are  the  condition  or  the  basis  of  th« 
origin,  direction,  and  development  of  the  Old  Covenant. 

(1.)  Gen.  i. — xi.,  which  hands,  down  the  traditions  of  th« 
primeval  period,  contains  the  Biblical  source  of  tliis  prepara- 
tory history.  The  canonical  authority  of  tliis  document  con- 
stitutes the  warrant  of  its  contents.  These  accounts  are  legen- 
dary, in  so  far  as  during  many  centuries  they  were  handed  down 
in  oral  tradition,  before  being  embodied  in  a  written  record.  But 
these  legends  possess  the  authority  of  history,  because  they  are 
derived  from  the  personal  experience  and  the  recollection  of 
cotemporaries  ;  because  they  were  transmitted  from  primeval  to 
historical  times  through  the  medium  of  comparatively  few  mem- 
bers of  a  family  consecrated  to  God  (Gen.  v.  11),  (the  first  man 
lived  to  the  time  of  Lamech,  the  father  of  Noah,  and  his  grand- 
child Shem  to  the  time  of  Abraham)  ;  and  lastly,  because  even 
though  these  legends  should,  in  the  com-se  of  time,  have  been 
impaired  by  mytliical  embellislmients,  the  person  or  persons  who 
wrote  them  down  were  under  the  immediate  influence  of  the 
ISi)irit  of  God,  who  supernaturally  assisted  and  corrected  their 
merely  human  researches.  It  is  indeed  true  that  part  of  these 
accounts  lies  beyond  the  range  of  human  experience  or  recollec- 
tion. Such,  more  especially,  is  the  case  vdih.  the  history  of 
creation  in  Gen.  i.  ii.  In  respect  of  this  account,  we  can  neither 
agree  with  rationalistic  commentators  in  considering  it  a  pliilo- 
Kophumenon  suggested  by  primeval  sages,  nor  witli  Hofiminn 
(Script.  Demonstr.  i.,  pp.  231,  &c.,  243)  in  regarding  it  as  an 


56  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

inference  on  the  part  of  the  first  man,  as  to  the  mode  in  wliich 
all  tilings  had  arisen,  gathered  from  a  survey  of  that  which  had 
arisen.  With  Delitzsch  (Genesis  p.  49)  we  trace  it  to  Divine 
Revelation.  But  while  this  scholar  regards  tliis  revelation  as 
communicated  by  special  instruction,  we  hold  that  it  was  im- 
parted through  a  land  of  prophetic  intuition,  when  he  who 
first  related  the  legend  of  creation  learned  the  liistory  of  the  de- 
velopments which  preceded  the  creation  of  man  in  a  manner 
analogous  to  that  in  which  later  prophets  learned  to  Imow  the 
history  of  the  future.  In  both  circumstances,  the  period  in  which 
the  seers  Kved  formed  the  starting-point  of  Divine  Revelation ; 
in  the-  former  case  as  the  close  of  the  past,  in  the  latter  as  the 
germ  of  the  future.  For  farther  details,  v,  the  author's  "  Bible 
and  Astronomy,"  3d  ed.,  ch.  iv.,  §  1 — 3. 

(2.)  Two  questions  have  been  raised.  It  is  asked  whether  the 
author  of  the  book  of  Grenesis,  as  presently  existing,  had  been 
the  first  to  write  down  the  legend  of  primeval  liistory,  or  whether, 
in  the  arrangement  and  elaboration  of  his  work,  he  had  made 
use  of  wiitten  records  already  existing?  and  again,  at  what 
period  the  author  or  his  predecessors,  of  whose  writings  he  had 
made  use  in  the  Biblical  record,  had  lived  ?  But  a  critical  reply 
to  these  enquiries  is  of  small  importance  to  its  in  decichng  as  to 
the  faithfulness,  trustwortliiness,  or  credibihty  of  these  legends 
themselves.  For  their  highest  authentication  we  depend  not  on 
the  human  origin  of  the  Bibhcal  records,  but  on  the  Divme  co- 
operation which  supported  and  assisted  those  who  wi'ote  them. 
Of  this  Divine  co-operation  we  are  not  only  assm-ed  by  certain 
express  statements  to  that  effect  in  the  Scriptm-es,  and  by  the 
testimonies  of  Moses,  of  Christ,  and  of  the  prophets  and  apostles, 
but  also  by  the  Divine  power  wliich  has  wrought  and  still  works 
by  them,  by  Christianity  itself,  which  is  their  ripe  fruit  (for  the 
tree  shall  be  known  by  its  fruit),  and  by  the  history  of  the  world, 
which,  on  its  every  page,  bears  testimony  to  the  Di\dne  character 
of  Christianity. 

We  may,  therefore,  confidently  leave  to  critical  research  the 
task  of  replying  to  such  enquiries  ;  nor  do  we  requii'e  to  wait  for 
the  final  and  absolutely  certain  solution  of  every  critical  problem 
(which  human  science,  as  such,  may  perhaps  never  attain)  before 
feeling  warranted  to  compile  a  Biblical  history  wliich  presupposes 
the  credibility  of  Biblical  records.  For  even  if  we  granted  to 
objectors  like  Bertheau,  that  not  only  the  composition  of  the 
book  of  Genesis,  and  of  the  whole  Pentateuch,  as  presently 
existing,  but  even  that  of  the  entire  cycle  of  Old  Testament  his- 
torical records,  from  Genesis  to  1  Kings  xxv.,  were  to  be  attri- 
buted to  Ezra  as  the  restorer  of  the  law  of  Moses  and  of  sacred 
literatm*e  generally — that  this  prophet  had  collated  the  present 


I 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARIES.    (§  20.)  57 

Pentateuch  from  the  relics  of  sacred  literature  then  existing 
auKjng  the  Hebrews,  and  from  the  legendary  recollections  of  their 
liistory — nothing  would  be  gained  by  our  opponents.  For  in  his 
investigations  into  the  sacred  laws  and  sacred  history,  Ezra  liim- 
self  was  also  moved  and  enlightened  by  the  Spirit  of  Grod.  We 
should  therefore  be  warranted  in  regarding  those  rehcs  of  a  former 
literature,  which  Ezra  collated  and  elaborated,  as  the  products  of 
sacred  historiography,  i.e.,  as  historical  compositions  made  by 
him  with  Divine  co-operation.  And  surely  to  ascribe  these  com- 
positions to  Ezra  is  the  utmost  limit  to  which  a  reasonable  criti- 
cism can  push  the  point  in  question,  at  least  with  reference  to 
tlie  Pentateuch.  To  trace  its  origin,  and  that  of  the  entire 
literature  of  the  Old  Testament,  to  the  conmiand  of  one  of  the 
Maccabean  princes,  is  so  wild  a  hypothesis  as  only  to  occur  to 
the  mad  criticism  of  a  Sorensen. 

But  let  it  not  be  sup})osed  that  we  are  obliged  to  make  even 
this  or  any  similar  concession.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  historical 
fact,  better  established  than  any  other  in  antiquarian  research, 
that  the  Pentateuch  is  the  basis  and  the  necessary  preliminary 
of  all  Old  Testament  history  and  literatm-e,  both  of  which — and 
with  them  Christianity  as  their  fruit  and  perfection — would  re- 
semble a  tree  without  roots,  a  river  without  a  som'ce,  or  a  build- 
ing which,  instead  of  resting  on  a  firm  foundation,  was  suspended 
in  the  air,  if  the  composition  of  the  Pentateuch  were  relegated 
to  a  later  period  in  Jewish  history.  The  references  to  the  Pen- 
tateuch occmi-ing  in  the  history  and  literature  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment are  so  numerous  and  comprehensive,  and  they  bear  on  so 
many  different  points,  that  we  cannot  even  rest  satisfied  with 
the  admission  which  Bertlieau  himself  would  readily  make,  that 
many  portions  of  the  present  Pentateuch  date  from  the  time  of 
Moses,  and  were  only  collated  and  elaborated  by  a  later  editor. 
We  go  finther,  and  maintain  that  the  whole  Pentateuch,  its  five 
books,  and  all  the  portions  of  which  it  is  at  present  made  up,  is 
tlie  basis  and  the  necessary  antecedent  of  the  history  of  the 
Jewish  people,  commonwealth,  religion,  manners,  and  literatm-e. 
We  have  not  reached  that  stage  in  om-  researches,  when  we  shall 
submit  proof  for  this  assertion.  This  indeed  is  the  object  of  the 
history  which  we  pr(Jpose  to  furnish  in  the  following  pages.  We 
shall,  in  the  meantime,  therefore,  only  refer  to  some  works  which, 
in  treating  of  Biblical  introduction,  have  more  or  less  satisfac- 
torily and  comprehensively  discussed  this  train  of  argument. 
(Comp.,  besides  Hengstenherg's  Contributions  to  the  Introduction 
to  the  0.  T.,  vols.  ii.  and  iii.,  and  UcUfzsch's  Exposition  of 
Genesis,  p.  4,  &c.,  the  works  to  which  we  shall  inunediately 
refer.) 

The  necessity  of  considering  the  Pentateuch  as  the  basis  of 


58  PREPABATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

Jewish  history,  in  all  the  relations  of  its  internal  development, 
on  the  one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  the  appearance,  at  the  very 
period  when  the  Pentateuch  must  have  been  composed,  of  the 
man  whom  Israel  celebrated  as  the  founder  of  its  national  and 
political  history,  has  always  induced,  both  the  representatives  of 
the  synagogue  and  of  the  Church,  to  maintain,  in  accordance 
with  the  most  ancient  tradition,  the  Mosaic  authorship  of  tliis, 
the  fundamental  work  of  the  Old  Covenant.  But  this  principle 
may  be  held  in  a  narrower  and  in  a  wider  acceptation  of  it.  In 
the  former  case,  the  whole  Pentateuch,  as  at  present  existing,  is 
held  to  be  from  the  pen  of  Moses  (of  course,  regarding  the  pas- 
sage Deut.  xxxii.  48 — end  as  a  later  addition  and  conclusion 
written  by  a  cotemporary  who  survived  Moses).  In  the  latter 
case,  it  is  thought  that  only  certain  portions  of  the  Pentateuch 
had  been  written  by  Moses  himself,  and  the  rest  by  his  contem- 
poraries or  sm-vivors  (collaborators  or  disciples),  either  at  his 
own  behest,  and  under  liis  own  superintendence,  or  at  least  in 
the  same  spirit,  and  that  with  them  the  sections  and  fragments 
left  by  Moses  liimself  had  been  combined  into  one  work.  The 
latter  opinion  has  of  late  been  advocated  by  Delitzscli,  1.  c. ;  the 
former  (wliich  is  also  the  old  one) ,  has  latterly  been  set  forth  in 
the  following  works : — E.  W.  Hengstenberg ,  Contributions  to  an 
Introd.  to  the  0.  T.,  vols.  ii.  iii.  (under  a  special  title,  The 
Authenticity  of  the  Pentateuch,  2  vols.),  Berlin,  1836 — 39  ;  F. 
H.  Ranke,  Kesearches  into  the  Pentateuch,  from  the  point  of 
view  of  a  higher  criticism,  2  vols.,  Erlang.,  1836 — 40;  H.  A. 
Ch.  Hdvernick,  Manual  of  Hist,  and  Crit.  Introd.  to  the  0. 
T.,  vol.  i.  1,  Erlg.,  1836  (translated  into  EngUsh  by  Professor 
Thomson,  Glasgow,  and  by  Dr  W.  L.  Alexander,  Edinburgh, 
T.  and  T.  Clark)  ;  31.  Drechsler,  Defective  Science  in  con- 
nection with  the  Criticism  of  the  Old  Test.,  Lpzg.,  1839,  and 
Ms  Unity  and  Genuineness  of  Genesis,  Hamb.,  1838  ;  B.  Welte, 
The  Post-Mosaic  in  the  Pentat.,  Karlsruhe  and  Freiburg,  1841 ; 
J.  G.  Herbst,  Hist,  and  Crit.  Introd.  to  the  s.  writings  of  the 
0.  T.,  edit,  by  B.  Welte,  vol.  ii.,  Karlsr.  and  Freib.,  1841 ;  J. 
M.  A.  Scholz,  Introd.  to  the  s.  writings  of  the  0.  and  N.  T., 
Koln,  1845,  vols.,  i.  ii.  ;  the  Author's  Contribut.  towards  prov- 
ing and  defencUng  the  Unity  of  the  Pent.,«Konigsb.,  1844,  and 
Ms  "  Unity  of  Genesis,  a  Contrib.  towards  the  Criticism  and  the 
Exeg.  of  Genesis,"  BerKn,  1846 ;  C.  Keil  on  the  Names  of  God 
in  the  Pentat.,  in  the  Luther.  Journal  for  1852,  pt.  ii.  The 
same  view  will  be  maintained  and  defended  by  the  author  in  the 
Introduction,  which  is  soon  to  appear. 

In  his  critical  investigations,  Delitzsch  rightly  starts  from  the 
testimony  which  the  Pentateuch  bears  of  itself  The  books  of 
Exodus  and  Numbers  contain  four  references  to  a  command  of 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARIES.    (§  20.)  59 

God  given  to  Moses  to  record  certain  facts.  In  Ex.  xvii.  14  he 
is  commanded  to  write  for  a  memorial  in  a  book  the  will  of  God 
concerning  the  destruction  of  Amalek  by  Joshua.  Accortling  to 
Ex.  xxiv.  4  he  recorded  the  fundamental  law  given  on  Sinai  in  , 
a  book  (called  the  covenant-book,  Ex.  xix. — xxiv.),  from  which  ■*-^'- 
he  read  to  tlie  people  during  their  solemn  covenanting  by  sacri- 
fice. When  this  covenant,  broken  by  the  worship  of  the  golden 
calf,  was,  tlirough  the  mercy  of  God,  again  renewed,  Moses  was 
commanded  (Ex,  xxxiv,  27)  to  wi-ite  down  the  fundamental 
laws  declared  on  that  occasion.  Lastly,  according  to  Num. 
xxxiii,  2,  Moses  kejjt  a  list  of  the  various  encampments  of  the 
people  in  the  wilderness,  manifestly  the  same  which  is  given  in 
vv.  3 — 49.  As  to  the  authorship,  or  the  time  and  mode  of 
composition  of  the  other  portions  of  these  books,  we  derive  no 
further  information  about  them  from  the  text  itself  Some, 
indeed,  think  that  Deut.  xxxi.  9  affords  such  testimony  in  favour 
of  the  whole  Pentateuch.  In  that  passage  we  are  informed  that 
Moses  had  wiitten  "  this  Thorah,"  and  given  it  to  the  priests 
and  to  the  elders  of  Israel,  with  the  injunction  to  read  it  to  the 
people  at  every  feast  of  tabernacles.  But  it  can  readily  be 
shown  that  this  expression  could  not  have  referred  to  the  entire 
Pentateuch-Thorah.  For  when  in  Deut,  xxvii.  8  it  is  com- 
manded to  grave,  at  a  futm-e  period,  all  the  words  "  of  this 
Thorah"  on  Mount  Ebal,  and  when,  in  fulfilment  of  this  com- 
mand, Joshua  (Josh.  viii.  32)  there  grave  into  stones  "  a  copy 
of  the  Thorah  of  Moses,"  we  are  surely  not  to  believe  that  this 
expression  refers  to  the  whole  Pentateuch,  but  only  that  it 
appHed  either  to  Deuteronomy,  or,  perhaps,  only  to  the  legal 
portions  of  that  book.  The  same  remark  undoubtedly  apphes, 
also,  to  Deut.  xvii.  18,  where  the  future  king  of  Israel  is  enjoined 
to  make  "  a  copy  of  this  Thorah,"  and  to  Deut.  xxxi.  10,  accord- 
ing to  which  "  this  Thorah"  was  to  be  jjublicly  read  once  in  seven 
years.  We  may  add  that  the  latter  is  the  view  handed  down  by 
the  unanimous  exegetical  tradition  of  the  Synagogue  itself. 
Hence  Deut.  xxxi.  9  afibrds  distinct  testimony  as  to  the  author- 
ship of  the  book  of  Deuteronomy  up  to  tliis  passage.  But 
it  does  not  appear  whether  the  succeeding  sections  dowTi  to 
Deut.  xxxii.  48  were  written  by  Moses  himself  or  added  by 
another  after  the  death  of  Moses  (as  doubtless  was  the  case  Mdth 
chaps,  xxxiii.  xxxiv.)  The  Pentateuch  itself  gives  no  other 
exphcit  testimony  about  the  comj)osition  of  any  of  its  other  por- 
tions, while  the  distinct  statement  that  certain  sections  had  been 
Avi-itten  liy  Moses  himself,  seems  rather  to  favour  the  supposition 
that  the  others  had  not  been  written  l)y  him. 

In  order  to  ascertain  their  origin,  Delilzsch  next  enters  upon 
an  investigation  into  the  manner  in  which  the  names  of  the 


60  PREPAEATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

Deity  are  employed  in  these  sections.  From  Gen.  i.  to  Exod. 
vi.  the  terms  Elohim  and  Jehovah  alternate  in  such  a  manner 
that  the  exclusive  or  prevailing  employment  of  one  or  the  other 
of  these  two  names  constitutes  a  characteristic  mark  of  entire 
and  large  sections.  It  is  manifest  that  the  employment  of  either 
of  these  peculiar  terms  was  designed.  But  what,  he  asks,  is  the 
explanation  of  this  design  ?  We  douht  not,  he  replies,  in  very 
many  of  these  passages  the  special  meaning  attaching  to  these 
terms  accounts  for  their  use.  (Comp.  §  13, 1.)  But  tliis  exj^lan- 
ation  evidently  does  not  suffice  to  account  for  some  other  passages 
— especially  for  such  where  the  expression  Elohim  is  exclusively 
employed,  wliile  that  of  Jehovah  is  purposely  avoided,  and  that 
,  even  where  the  latter  seemed  to  tally  with  the  hearing  of  the 
Ot.'X  passage.  It  appears  to  him  that  Ex.  yt-^  throws  light  on  this 
subject.  In  that  passage  Elohim  declares  to  Moses  that  He  had 
appeared  to  the  patriarchs  as  El-Shaddai,  but  had  not  been 
known  to  them  by  His  name  as  Jehovah  (comp.  below,  §  96, 
1,2.)  This  declaration  does  not,  indeed,  imply  that  the  name 
Jehovah  had  been  wholly  miknown  to  the  Patriarchs,  but  it 
indicates  that  they  had  not  had  full  knowledge  of  what  this 
name  implied  concerning  the  Divine  Being.  On  account  of  tliis 
circumstance,  the  historian  who  wrote  that  passage  may  readily 
have  been  induced  to  avoid  the  use  of  the  name  Jehovah  in  his 
record  of  pre-Mosaic  liistory  up  to  that  period,  and  to  prefer 
employing  the  more  general  name  of  Elohim.  But  a  second 
liistorian,  engaged  in  recording  the  pre-Mosaic  liistory,  may  not 
have  felt  himself  equally  bound  by  this  consideration.  Thus, 
without  contravening  Ex.  vi.  2,  3,  he  may  have  made  use  of 
either  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  names,  being  guided  in  his 
choice  only  by  the  difference  of  ideas  attaching  to  them.  We 
are,  therefore,  shut  up  to  the  conclusion  that  the  record  of  pre- 
Mosaic  history,  as  contained  in  Gen.  i.  to  Ex.  vi.,  was  composed 
by  two  historians,  whose  wi-itings  are  mingled  and  combined  in 
the  Pentateuch  as  presently  existing.  This  view  is  fm-ther  said 
to  be  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  in  the  Elohistic  portions,  and 
in  these  only,  the  name  El-Shaddai  frequently  recurs  along  with 
that  of  Elohim,  wliile  the  name  Jehovah  occurs  only  very  rarely,  in 
specially  marked  passages,  and  then,  as  it  were,  in  a  preparatory 
and  fore-shadowing  sense  (as,  for  example,  in  Gen.  xlix.  18). 
We  are  further  told  that  a  totally  different  iisus  loquendi,  and 
certain  favomite  forms  and  terms,  distinguish  the  Eloliistic  from 
the  Jehovistic  sections — a  difference  which,  if  frequently,  is  not 
always  accounted  for  by  the  diflerence  of  ideas  conveyed  by  these 
terms.  As  after  Ex.  vi.  the  Eloliist  employs  promiscuously 
either  of  the  two  names  of  God,  and  hence  this  criterion  of  his 
compositions  ceases,  the  difference  in  the  usiis  loquendi  furnishes, 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARIES.    (§  20.)  Gl 

also,  tlie  means  of  clistinguisliing  what  parts  in  tlie  later  sections 
of  the  Pentateuch  were  wi-itten  by  each  of  these  authors.  Thus 
we  gather  that  all  Le\dticus  is  from  the  pen  of  the  Elohist,  while 
both  authors  were  engaged  in  Genesis,  Exodus,  and  Numbers. 
If  the  foregoing  statements  are  correct,  we  cannot  any  longer  be 
in  doubt  as  to  the  manner  in  wliich  the  labours  of  these  two 
authors  were  combined  into  one  work.  Manifestly  the  Elohistic 
portions  form  the  basis  of  the  whole.  After  separating  them 
from  the  Jehovistic  sections,  they  form  by  themselves  an  almost 
complete  and  coherent  work.  No  doubt  the  Jehovist  had  the 
Elohistic  work  before  liim,  and  enlarged  and  completed  it  by  the 
addition  of  smaller  or  larger  sections  as  required.  In  doing  so 
he  displayed  great  respect  for  the  labours  of  his  predecessor. 
Generally  he  inserted  these  compositions  without  any  alteration, 
but  occasionally,  if  necessary,  he  re-MTote  them,  or  (as,  for 
example,  in  the  history  of  the  FaU),  omitted  a  whole  section, 
substituting  in  its  place  another  of  his  own  composition. 

Manifestly,  this  mode  of  viewing  the  question,  both  in  the 
peculiar  criticism  applied  to  it  and  in  the  results  to  which  it  leads, 
resembles  in  many  respects  what  is  known  as  the  "  supplement 
hypothesis"  advocated  by  Tuch  (comment,  to  Genesis)  ;  by 
Stdhelin  (Critic.  Invest,  of  Gen.,  Basle  1830,  and  Crit.  Investig. 
of  the  Pent.,  Josh.,  &c.,  Berl.  1843) ;  by  De  Wette  (Introduct. 
to  the  0.  T.)  ;  by  C.  v.  Lengerlce  (Kenaan).  Indeed  it  may 
prol)ably  be  designated  as  that  prevalent  in  modern  Theology.^ 

1  Ewahl's  CliristaUisation-hypothesis  (as  Deliizsch  calls  it)  although  based 
on  an  assumption  of  critical  omniscience  and  infallibility,  and  hence  exacting 
implicit  reception,  has  not  found  any  support  among  the  learned.  Ewald 
supposes  that  seven  works  were  incorporated  in  the  "  great  book  of  what  had 
taken  place  from  the  first,  or  in  primeval  history"  (including  the  Pentat.  and 
Joshua).  (1)  The  oldest  historical  work,  of  which  only  very  few  fragments 
are  preserved,  was  the  book  of  the  wars  of  Jahve.  Then  follows — (2). 
A  biography  of  Moses  of  which  also  only  a  few  scanty  fragments  have 
been  handed  down.  Much  more  has  been  preserved  (3)  of  the  covenant-book, 
or  the  book  of  covenants,  written  during  the  time  of  Samson,  and  (4)  of  the 
book  of  origins,  the  author  of  which  was  a  priest  at  the  time  of  Solomon. 
1'hese  wi-itcrs  are  followed  (5)  by  the  third  narrator  of  primeval  history  or 
the  first  prophetic  narrator,  a  citizen  of  the  Kingdom  of  Israel  at  the  time  of 
Elijah  or  of  Joel, — (0)  by  the  fourth  narrator  of  primeval  hiistory  (or  the 
second  prophetic  narrator)  who  flourished  and  wrote  between  800  and  750, 
and  (7)  by  the  fifth  narrator  of  primeval  history  (or  the  third  prophetic  nar- 
rator) who  appeared  not  long  after  Joel,  and  who  collated  all  former  autho- 
rities on  preparatory  history.  Then  commenced  the  purely  artistic  application 
of  primeval  history  "when  the  sacred  soil  of  this  history  merely  served  as 
the  material  for  prophetic  and  legislative  purposes."  This  was  done  first  by 
an  unknown  author,  in  the  beginning  of  the  7th  century,  and  then  on  a  much 
more  comprehensive  scale  by  the  author  of  Deuteronomy,  the  prophet  who 
restored  and  completed  the  ancient  Law,  and  who  lived  at  the  time  of 
Manesseh  and  wrote  in  Egypt.     Finally,  during  the  time  of  Jeremiah  flou- 


G2  PtlEPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

But  in  the  farther  development  of  his  views  Delitzsch  diverges 
considerably  from  liis  predecessors.  Lengerke  supposes  that  the 
Elohist  flourished  at  the  time  of  Solomon  and  the  Jehovist  at 
that  of  Hezekiah  ;  Tuch  that  the  former  lived  under  the  reign  of 
Saul  and  the  latter  under  that  of  Solomon ;  and  Stdlielin  places 
the  one  in  the  period  of  the  Judges,  the  other  at  the  time  of 
Saul.  But  Delitzsch  maintains  that  the  Eloliistic  and  primary 
portion  of  the  work  had  been  composed  either  during  the  life 
time  of  Moses,  or  more  probably  soon  after  his  death,  and  that 
the  Jehovistic  or  supplementary  portion  had  been  wi-itten  at  a 
somewhat  later  stage,  but  at  any  rate  at  the  time  of  Joshua. 
Besides,  while  the  above-named  critics  consider  Deuteronomy  as 
the  last  composed  portion  of  the  Pentateuch  (although  Stdhelin, 
differing  in  this  from  De  Wette  and  from  v.  Lengerke,  supposes 
that  the  author  of  Deuteronomy  was  also  that  of  the  supplemental 
portion),  Delitzsch  regards  Deuteronomy  and  the  sections  of 
Exodus,  Leviticus,  and  Numbers,  which  Moses  himself  had 
written  (and  wliich  these  other  critics  ascribe  to  the  author  of 
the  supplementary  sections),  as  the  most  ancient  portions  of  the 
whole  work, 

Delitzsch  sums  up  his  general  conclusions  as  follows  (p.  27) : 
"  The  roll  of  the  law  (Ex.  xix — xxiv.),  written  down  by 
Moses  himself,  and  now  inserted  into  the  general  historical  ac- 
count of  the  giving  of  the  law,  must  be  regarded  as  the  central 
part,  as  having  formed  the  primary  basis  of  the  Pentateuch. 
The  other  laws  promulgated  during  the  stay  in  the  wilderness  of 
Sinai  and  up  to  the  time  when  Israel  occupied  the  plains  of  Moab 
were  orally  given  by  Moses,  but  written  down  by  those  around 
him,  either  at  his  command  or  of  their  own  accord.  As 
Deuteronomy,  so  far  from  indicating  that  the  laws  formerly  given 
had  been  wi-itten  down,  repeats  them,  and  that  not  literally,  it  is 
not  necessary  to  suppose  that  dm-ing  the  passage  through  the 
wilderness  these  laws  had  ever  been  committed  to  writing.  On 
the  soil  of  the  holy  land  and  at  the  close  of  an  era  in  the  history 
of  Israel  was  the  sacred  chronicle  commenced.  But  any  account  of 
the  history  of  the  Mosaic  period  necessarily  implied  that  the  whole 
Mosaic  legislation  should  be  engrossed,  and  hence  wi'itten  down. 
A  man,  such  as  the  priest  Eleazar,  the  son  of  Aaron,  may  have 

rished  the  author  of  the  poem  entitled  "  the  blessing  of  Moses."  A  somewhat 
later  historian  then  combined  the  work  of  the  author  of  Deuteronomy,  which 
had  originally  been  an  independent  composition,  the  smaller  sections  written 
by  his  two  colleagues,  and  the  work  of  the  fifth  narrator  into  one  great  work. 
Such  "  vicissitudes  did  this  great  work  undergo  before  attaining  its  present 
form."  Happily  for  us  Ewald  is  able  not  only  to  assign  to  each  of  these  ten 
authors  his  own  part  in  the  great  work  even  to  single  verses  and  words,  but 
generally  also  to  distinguish  and  to  characterise  the  sources  from  which  each 
of  them  had  again  drawn  his  original  materials ! 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARIES.    (§  20.)  63 

written  the  large  work  commencing  with  "  In  the  beginning  Gotl 
created,  &c.,"  into  which  he  also  inserted  the  roll  of  the  law, 
dwelling  perhaps  the  more  briefly  on  the  last  addresses  of  Moses 
that  the  latter  had  himself  written  them  down.  Then  a  second 
historian,  such  as  Joshua,  or  one  of  those  Elders  on  whom  rested 
the  spirit  of  Moses,  supplemented  the  work  and  incorporated  with 
it  the  book  of  Deuteronomy,  the  spirit  of  wliich  had  moulded  that 
of  the  compiler  himself.  Thus  probably  was  the  Thorah  formed, 
the  two  authors  having  certainly  consulted  many  written  docu- 
ments. Both  of  them — the  priestly  Eloliist  and  the  prophetical 
Jehovist — are  each  in  his  own  way  the  echo  and  the  copy  of  their 
teacher  and  prototype,  the  gi'eat  Lawgiver.  Just  as  the  Evan- 
gelists wrote  the  Gospel  alter  the  ascension  of  Christ  in  His 
Spirit,  so  did  these  two  after  removal  of  Moses  write  his  law  and 
the  history  of  which  it  forms  part.  It  seems  as  if  the  remark- 
able passage  in  Ezra  ix.  10 — 12,  where  a  commandment  of  the 
Thorah  given  during  the  passage  through  the  wilderness  is 
mentioned  as  being  the  commandment  of  the  servants  of  Jehovah, 
the  prophets,  were  due  to  the  consciousness  that  the  Thorah  had 
been  written  in  this  manner.  ^^ 

If  we  are  asked  to  pronounce  an  opinion  about  these  conclu- 
sions of  the  critical  investigations  of  our  respected  friend,  Dr 
Delitzsch,  we  cheerfully  allow  that  much  may  be  urged  in  their 
favour — (1)  The  method  by  which  the  learned  author  has  arrived 
at  them  is  neither  liable  to  the  objection  of  being  rash,  inconside- 
rate, and  superficial,  nor  to  that  of  being  tainted  by  dogmatical 
prejudices  ;  (2)  he  fully  admits  and  defends  all  those  elements  for 
which,  in  the  first  place,  those  contended  who  defended  the 
authenticity  and  unity  of  the  Pentateuch  against  its  antagonists  ; 
and  (3)  he  gives  their  due  weight  to  some  of  the  arguments  of 
opponents,  which  formerly  apologetic  critics  had  not  sufficiently 
appreciated,  while  yet  he  has  not  abated  aught  of  the  just  re- 
quirements of  Apologetics. 

In  our  two  critical  works  (to  which  reference  has  already  been 
made)  we  have,  at  considerable  pains,  attempted  to  refute  the 
supplement-hypothesis,  as  represented  by  Tuch  and  Stdhelin. 
We  cannot  think  that  our  labour  has  been  in  vain  ;  nor  will  we 
believe  that  we  have  failed  in  attaining  our  great  aim  and  shew- 
ing that  in  that  particular  form  the  supplement-hypothesis  is 
wholly  untenable,  that  in  many  respects  its  method  is  erroneous, 
and  that  its  argmiients  are  inconclusive.  We  have  not  indeed 
at  any  time  concealed  it  from  ourselves  or  from  others  that,  not- 
withstanding the  able  works  of  Hengstenberg,  Ranke,  Dreclisler, 
and  our  own  attempts,  the  argument  which  upholds  the  original 
unity  of  Genesis  (and  of  the  Pentateuch)  was  not  wholly  free 
from  difficulties.     Among  these  the  following  are  the  principal — 


64  PKEPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

(1)  The  almost  exclusive  use  of  the  name  Elohim  in  the  sections 
which  manifestly  form  part  of  what  is  called  the  fundamental 
portion  of  the  work.  Granting  that  the  term  Elohim  may  in  many 
or  even  in  most  of  these  passages  be  shewn  to  have  been  naturally 
and  necessarily  chosen  on  account  of  the  idea  attaching  to  that 
term,  still  many  other  passages  might  be  adduced  which  require 
to  be  twisted  in  order  to  admit  of  this  explanation.  If,  besides, 
we  take  into  consideration  Ex.  vi.  2,  it  is  indeed  probable  that 
the  use  of  the  name  Jehovah  had  purposely  been  avoided  in  some 
passages ;  (2)  the  absence  of  all  reference  to  the  blessing  of 
Abraham  (Gren.  xii.  3  ;  xviii.  18  ;  xxii.  18  ;  xxiv.  7 ;  xxviii.  14 — 
all  Jehovistic  sections)  in  Elohistic  sections  where  we  should 
certainly  have  been  warranted  in  expecting  to  find  an  allusion  to 
it  (for  example  in  ch.  x\di.)  ;  (3)  frequently  we  notice  a  usus 
loquendi  peculiar  to  each  of  the  two  sections.  It  is,  indeed,  true 
that  Stdhelin  has  urged  this  very  much  beyond  what  sound  criti- 
cism warrants.  V/e  believe  that  in  our  two  critical  works  we 
have  irrefragably  shewn  that  about  nine-tenths  of  the  words  and 
modes  of  expressions  wliich  he  mentions  as  characteristic  of  each  of 
the  two  sections  are  entirely  fanciful.  But  we  confess  that  in  some 
cases  we  have  been  unsuccessful  in  shewing  that  the  differences 
in  the  mode  of  expression  were  due  to  the  difference  in  the  sub- 
jects treated.  Among  these  we  reckon  the  striking  circumstance 
that  the  Elohistic  sections  always  designate  Mesopotamia  as 
Padan  Aram,  and  the  Jehovistic  as  Aram  Naharajim.  Comp. 
also  the  other  expressions,  enumerated  by  Delitzsch  at  pp.  27 
and  391.  But  despite  these  difficulties,  which  at  the  time  we 
knew  we  had  not  perfectly  removed,  we  thought  with  a  good  con- 
science to  maintain  and  defend  the  unity  of  Grenesis.  The  cir- 
cumstance that  individual  difficulties  attach  to  a  fact  do  not 
warrant  us  in  rejecting  it  as  untrue,  especially  if  it  is  otherwise 
authenticated.  Besides,  in  the  present  instance  the  weight  of 
these  difficulties  is  as  nothing  when  compared  with  the  objections 
attacliing  to  the  hypothesis  advocated  by  Tucli  and  by  Stdhelin  ; 
difficulties  these,  wliich  render  the  reception  of  their  views — at 
least  to  our  mind — an  impossibility. 

Two  considerations  had  especially  induced  us  to  maintain  the 
unity  of  the  book  of  Genesis  and  of  the  Pentateuch  itself.  We 
were  and  indeed  are  still  firmly  convinced  that  the  Pentateuch  is 
the  basis  of  all  Jewish  liistory,  whether  it  be  that  of  the  nation  and 
the  commonwealth,  or  that  of  the  religion  and  literatme  of  Israel. 
Hence  its  authorsliip  must  date  from  Mosaic  times,  a  view  directly 
contrary  to  the  supplement-hypothesis  as  advocated  by  Tuch  and 
Stahelin.  But  besides  we  are  equally  convinced  that  whatever 
original  historical  document  is  supposed  to  have  existed,  must 
have  contained  some  account  of  the  Fall.     Even  the  accomit  of 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARIES.    (§  '20.)  65 

the  deluge,  furnished  by  what  i.s  now  called  the  original  docu- 
ment, presupposes  such  an  event.  But  Tuch  and  Stdhelin  deny 
this,  and  consider  that  what  they  call  the  Elohistic  sections  in 
Genesis,  form  when  separated  trom  the  Jehovistic  portions  a 
separate  work  complete  in  itself  It  must,  however,  be  allowed 
that  the  modification  of  this  theory,  as  advocated  by  Delitzsch, 
does  not  contravene  either  of  the  above  two  postulates  wliich  we 
cannot  under  any  consideration  consent  to  give  up.  For  that 
author  traces  in  the  last  instance  the  entire  contents  of  the 
Pentateuch  to  the  Great  Lawgiver,  and  ascribes  its  compositioE 
partly  to  Moses  himself  (giving  in  this  respect  due  weiglit  to  the 
testimony  of  the  Pentateuch  itself)  and  partly  to  cotemporaries 
and  assistants  of  Moses.  At  the  same  time  he  also  holds  that 
the  original  document  had  contained  an  account  of  the  fall.  But 
being  viewed  merely  from  the  stand-jjoint  of  the  writer,  who  was 
a  priest,  Delitzsch  supposes  that  tlie  prophet  who  composed  the 
supplementary  part  of  Genesis  had  felt  it  to  be  defective,  and 
hence  wholly  omitted  it  and  supplied  its  place  by  another  account 
in  accordance  with  the  view  which  he  as  a  prophet  took  of  these 
events. 

But  we  confess  that  with  all  these  modifications  w^e  hesitate 
adopting  these  opinions  of  Dr  Delitzsch  without  at  least  again 
submitting  them  to  a  searcliing  investigation,  for  which  of  course 
tills  is  not  the  place.  In  the  meantime  we  must  express  our 
misgivings  as  to  the  correctness  of  the  opinion  that  while  the 
party  who  composed  the  sup})lement  had  (as  Delitzsch  supposes) 
whoUy  rejected  the  history  of  the  fall  in  the  original  document, 
he  had  still  retained  its  heading  in  Gen.  ii.  4.  Nor  can  we 
exactly  see  how,  without  violence  or  else  without  leaving  the 
question  in  an  unsatisfactory  state,  we  can,  considering  the  many 
modifications  of  law  which  Deuteronomy  contains,  reconcile  the 
idea  of  the  Mosaic  authorship  of  that  book  with  that  of  a  later 
origin  of  the  other  books  in  the  Pentateuch. 

(3.)  The  following  are  the  principal  auxiliaries  for  under- 
standing the  Biblical  text  of  the  preparatory  history  of  the  Old 
Covenant. 

I.  Among  exegetical  works,  composed  by  Rationalists,  we 
mention  G.  Eichhorn's  Primeval  History,  recast  by  Gabler. 
3  vols.,  Altd.  1792,  and  the  commentaries  of  -/.  Sev.  Vater 
(Comment,  on  the  Pent.,  3  vols.,  Halle  1802—03);  of  G. 
A.  Schumann  (Pentateuchus  hebr.  et  gr.  cum,  annot.  pei-pet. 
Only  vol.  i..  Genesis,  Lps.  1829)  ;  of  P.  v.  Bohlen  (Genesis 
transl.  and  ^vith  notes,  Lpz.  1835)  ;  of  Fr.  Tuch  Comment,  on 
Genesis,  Hall  1838  ;  of  Th.  Sorensen  (Hist,  and  Crit.  Comment, 
on  Genesis,  Kiel  1851).  The  commentary  of  Vatcr  has  no 
claims  whatever  to  merit,  thnt  of  ScMimann  is  nut  without  its 

VOL.   I,  E 


66  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

pliilological  value,  that  of  Bohlen  is  equally  remarkable  for  its 
confidence,  superficiality,  and  the  frivolity  and  impudence  of  its 
negations  without  compensating  for  these  blemishes,  either  by 
pliilological  or  archaeological  merit.  On  the  other  hand  the 
conmientary  of  Tuch  has  been  of  great  use  to  Bibhcal  criticism 
from  the  pliilological  and  archaeological  researches  which  it  em- 
bodies, although  it  is  entirely  destitute  of  theological  interest. 
All  these  works  treat  Genesis  as  being  merely  a  collection  of 
Myths  destitute  of  all  proper  historical  foundation.  Sorensen's 
commentary  affords  a  specimen  of  Rationalistic  criticism  deve- 
lojied  to  its  full  proportions  of  absm'dity.  In  it  we  are  informed 
that  the  Messiah  of  the  Old  Testament  was  the  Maccabean  prince 
John  H}Tcanus,  at  whose  command  the  Pentateuch  was  com- 
posed, as  a  land  of  Directory  for  Public  Worship  to  the  Syna- 
gogue. The  history  of  Genesis  is  not  even  regarded  as  a  Myth, 
but  as  a  deliberate  fabrication  on  the  part  of  the  author.  Most 
of  the  other  books  in  the  Old  Testament,  we  are  assured,  were 
composed  soon  afterwards,  in  a  similar  manner  and  for  the  same 
purposes.  The  interpretations  of  the  narratives  in  Genesis  offered 
by  this  writer  may  safely  be  characterised  as  the  cHmax  of 
absm-dity.  His  critical  principles  and  liis  treatment  of  the  sacred 
text  are  fundamentally  the  same  as  those  of  Hitzig  and  of  others. 
But  so  far  from  employing  tliis  method  even  with  the  caution  of 
his  predecessors,  Sorensen  carries  it  beyond  all  bounds,  and  applies 
it  in  a  manner  hitherto  unknown  in  the  literature  of  the  Old 
Testament.  If  "  the  conmientary"  had  been  meant  to  serve  as  a 
caricature  of  negative  criticism,  the  writer  had  admirably  suc- 
ceeded in  attaining  liis  object  only  that  in  that  case  we  should 
have  expected  to  find  some  hint  to  that  effect.  Bosenmullers 
Scholia  are  still  useful,  although  somewhat  superficial.  The 
following  are  the  more  recent  works  of  an  apologetic  character 
on  the  Exegesis  of  the  Pentateuch  :  Leop.  Schmid  (Rom.  catli.), 
Explanation  of  holy  Scripture,  of  which  only  the  first  vol.  (on 
Genesis)  has  appeared,  Miinster  1834  ;  J.  N.  Tiele,  the  first 
book  of  Moses,  vol.  i.  (extenchng  only  to  ch.  xxv.  10,  Erlg. 
1836  ;  H.  and  W.  Itichfer,  Annotated  Family  Bible,  vol.  i., 
Barmen  1834  ;  0.  v.  Gerlach,  Comment,  on  the  Holy  Script., 
vol.  i.,  Berl.  1844;  F.  W.  J.  Schroder,  Explan.  of  the  1st  book 
of  Moses,  Berl.  1844  ;  F.  J.  Ph.  Heim,  Bible  Hours,  Comment, 
on  the  0.  T,  vol.  i.,  Stuttg.  1845 ;  31.  Baumgarfen,  theolog. 
Comment,  to  the  Pentat.,  2  vols.,  Kiel,  1843-44  ;  Fr.  Delitzsch, 
Expos,  of  the  Book  of  Genes.,  Leipz.  1852.  The  work  of  Schmid 
bears  the  character  of  theosopliic  speculation,  but  without  that 
neglect  of  philological  and  historical  considerations  which  com- 
monly characterise  that  stand-point.  Tiele  s  exposition  is  devout, 
although  somewliat  jejune,  speculative,  and  verbose.     Still,  it 


SOURCES  AND  AUXILIARIES.    (§  20.)  67 

deserves  attention,  esj)ecially  for  practical  purposes  (as  for 
preachers),  and  it  is  matter  of  regret  that  the  work  has  not  been 
completed.  Among  the  popular  expositions  of  Itichter,  Gerlacli, 
Schroder,  and  Heim,  all  of  which  deserve  attention  for  their 
original  and  comprehensive  treatment  of  the  text,  that  of  Gerlacli, 
is  the  best.^  Notwithstanding  its  occasional  exegetical  errors, 
the  work  of  Baumgarten  (comp.  §  14,  2)  is  distinguished  by 
breadth  of  view,  and  by  a  fresh,  lively  method  of  presenting  the 
subject.  With  the  exception  of  an  untenable  opinion  about  the 
history  of  the  Creation  (comp.  our  "  Bible  and  Astronomy,  3d  ed., 
Berl.  1853"),  and  of  some  other  mistakes  of  minor  importance, 
the  latest  work  by  Delitzsch  is  equally  ingenious,  learned,  and 
stirring.  It  is  to  be  i-egretted  that  the  second  part  of  Grenesis 
(from  chap,  xii.)  had  not  been  treated  at  greater  length. 

II.  The  following  works  claim  special  attention,  as  bearing  on 
the  histoy-y  and  the  historiology  of  the  subject :  J.  H.  Heidegger, 
hist.  ss.  Patriarch,  2  vols.,  Amsterd.  1667,  4,  of  which  the  1st 
vol.  treats  of  the  patriarchs  and  of  primeval  history ;  J.  G. 
Herder,  the  oldest  account  of  man,  2  vols.,  Riga  1774-76  ; 
F.  Pustkuclien,  the  primeval  history  of  man,  vol.  i.,  Lemgo 
1821  ;  and  Hist,  and  Crit.  Investig.  of  the  primeval  history  of 
the  Bible,  by  the  same  author,  Halle  1823;  K.  T.  Beke, 
origines  biblicfe,  or  researches  into  primeval  history,  vol.  i., 
London  1834 ;  fJ.  L.  Hug),  the  Mosaic  history  of  man,  to  the 
rise  of  nations,  Frkf.  1793  ;  F.  A.  Krummacher,  Paragraphs  on 
Sacred  History,  Berl.  1818  ;  Clir.  Kwpp,  on  the  origin  of  men 
and  nations,  according  to  the  Mosaic  account,  Niirulx  1829 
(based  on  the  Lectures  of  Schelling  at  Erlangen)  ;  J.  H.  Pahst, 
Man  and  liis  history,  Vienna  1830  ;  Al.  Guiraud,  phil.  catholique 
de  riiist.,  ou  riiist.  expliquee.  Par.  1841  (theosoph.) 

III.  With  reference  to  Dogmatics  and  the  history  of  religion, 
comp.  especially:  T.  Beck,  Science  of  Christian.,  Stuttg.  1841  ; 
J.  P.  Lange,  posit.  Dogmatics,  Heidlb.  1851 ;  J.  Chr.  K.  Hof- 
mann,  Prediction  and  Fulfilment,  NcircU.  1841,  and  the  Scrip- 
tural Demonst.,  by  the  same  author,  vol.  i.,  Ncirdl.  1852  ; 
Lectures  on  Old  Test.  Tlieol,  by  Steudel  and  Huvcrnick. 

(4.)  The  scientific  results  of  Astronomy^,  GEOLO(jy,  Anthro- 
pology, and  of  COMPARATIVE  Philology  must  be  applied  Avitli 
great  caution,  but  may  still  be  considered  as  subsidiary  som-ces,  as, 
starting  from  the  status  quo  of  what  appears,  they  trace  back  the 
history  of  its  origin.  But  even  irrespecti\'e  of  the  insecurity  of  this 
method,  these  sciences  really  furnish  fewer  points  of  coincidence 
tlian  might  have  been  anticipated,  because  the  Idud  of  information 

I  The  works  on  this  subject  written  in  the  English  language,  such  as  those 
by  Henry,  Scott,  Claike,  Gill,  Ainsicorth,  Buah,  &c.,  are  well  known. — 
'luE  Tr. 

e2 


68  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

which  the  Scriptures  communicates  is,  from  its  natm-e,  beyond 
the  province  of  empirical  investigation.  Comp.,  however,  A. 
Tholuck,  the  inferences  of  Science  as  to  the  primeval  world,  in 
his  "  Minor  Works,"  Hamb.  1839,  vol.  ii.  ;  G.  Fr.  Keil,  apologia 
Mos.  traditionis  de  mundi  hominnmque  orig.  exponentis.  i., 
Dorp.  1839,  4  ;  Dr  Wiseman,  Connection  between  Science  and 
Kevealed  Keligion,  London  1836  ;  Marc,  de  Sevres,  tlie  Kosmo- 
gony  of  Moses,  translated  into  German  by  Stech,  Tiibg.  1841  ; 
Fr.  Rougemont,  fragmens  d'  une  hist,  de  la  terre  d'  apres  la 
bible,  Neuchat.  1841  ;  Seh.  Mutzl,  primeval  history  of  the  earth 
and  of  man,  according  to  the  Mos.  account  and  tlie  results  of 
science,  Landsh.  1843;  Andr.  Wagner,  Hist,  of  the  primeval 
world,  with  a  special  view  to  the  races  of  men  and  the  Mos. 
account  of  creation,  Leipz.  1845  ;  A.  Ebrard,  The  Bible's 
account  of  the  world  and  natural  science,  in  his  Jom'nal :  The 
Future  of  the  Church,  Zurich  1847  ;  and  our  "  Bible  and 
Astronomy^"  3d  ed.,  Berlin  1851.^ 

(5.)  Altliough  many  works  have  appeared  showing  the  resem- 
blance between  the  legends  of  other  nations  about  the  primeval 
liistory  of  man  and  the  Biblical  account,  we  have  not  yet  any 
trustworthy  and  critical  treatise  on  the  subject.  It  has,  especially, 
been  overlooked  that  the  ancient  writers  to  whom  we  are  indebted 
for  our  knowledge  of  heathen  legends  mostly  belonged  to  the 
Alexandrian  school  of  Syncretism,  wliich,  maldng  use  of  the 
LXX.,  attempted  to  draw  the  Old  Testament  tradition  into  the 
circle  of  its  Eclecticism.  Even  Delitzsch,  who  in  his  Commen- 
tary takes  occasional  notice  of  heathen  legends,  over-estimates 
their  importance.  At  any  rate,  we  do  not  feel  disposed  to  adopt 
his  opinion  that  some  genuine  historical  traditions,  not  mentioned 
in  the  Biblical  record,  had  been  preserved  in  heatlien  legend. — 
Comp.  Grotius,  de  verit.  relig.  Christ.  ;  Huetius,  demonstr. 
evang.,  prop,  iv.,  c.  3 — 11  ;  FustJcuchen,  1.  c.  (v.  sect,  ii.)  ;  H. 
J.  Schmitt,  Orig.  Kevelat.,  Landsh.  1834;  G.  J.  H.  Windisch- 
mann,  Philos.  in  the  developm.  of  history,  Bomi  1827,  et  seq., 
part  i.  ;  Stolberg,  Hist,  of  the  relig.  of  Jesus,  vol.  i.,  Append.  ; 
Mutzl  and  Rougemont,  U.  cc.  ;  H.  Lilken,  the  unity  of  races 
and  the  spread  of  men  over  the  globe,  Hannov.  1845  ;  lastly, 
most  recently  the  excellent  treatise  by  A.  Wuthe,  on  the 
Kosmogony  of  heathen  nations  before  the  time  of  Chiist  and  of 
his  apostles,  Hague  1850. 

1  Among  English  works  on  the  subject  we  may  specially  mention  those  of 
Drs  Pye  Smith  and  King,  and  among  more  modern  productions  Dr  Reginald 
Poole  s  Genesis  of  the  Earth  and  of  Man,  Edinb.  1856,  and  especially  the 
Rev.  D.  McDonald's  Creation  and  the  Fall,  Edinb.  1856 — a  work  equally 
distinguished  for  its  ability  and  its  learning. — The  Tr. 


CREATION  AND  DESTINY  OF  MAN.    (§  21.)  69 


THE  CREATION  AND  DESTINY  OF  MAN. 

(Comp.  F.  W.  C.  Umbreit,  Specimen  of  an  Expos,  of  the 
Account  of  Creation,  in  the  "  Theol.  Studies  and  Critiques,"  1839, 
i.  ;  (HengstenbergJ,  Account  of  Creation,  Evang.  Kirchenzeit, 
1841,  No.  37—39  ;  Chr.  G.  Werner,  Histor.  View  of  the  first 
tln-ee  chapters  in  Gen.,  Tiibg.  1829  ;  Sam.  Hirsch,  Relig.  Philos. 
of  the  Jews,  Leipz.  1842,  p.  1,  et  seq.  ;  0.  Krabhe,  Doctrine  of 
Sin  and  Death,  Hamb.  183G,  (ch.  iii.)  ;  E.  Sarforius,  Doctrine 
of  Holy  Love,  i.  25 — 85  ;  The  Author's  Bible  and  Astronomy, 
3d  ed.,  ch.  iv.  ;  Hofmann,  Script.  Demonstr.,  sect,  ii.) 

§  21.  (Gen.  i.  ii.) — In  the  beginning  God  created  heaven  and 
earth.  The  earth  was  desert  (without  form)  and  void  (1).  But 
the  Spirit  of  God  moved  over  the  chaotic,  dark,  and  watery 
mass,  and  filled  it  with  powers  of  life.  These  the  Almighty 
word  of  God's  creative  Will  individualised  as  the  ivork  of  six 
days  (2),  and  called  them  into  separate  existence.  Starting  from 
the  broad  basis  of  telluric  life,  it  ascended,  hke  a  pyramid,  to 
vegetable  and  animal  life,  and  reached  the  goal  and  liigh-point 
of  creative  activity  in  man,  who  comprises  in  himself  aU  the 
former  degrees  and  stages  of  life,  only  in  an  elevated  manner. 
In  man  two  elements  were  combined ;  the  one  Divine,  the  other 
purely  human — the  one  the  form  of  clay,  the  other  tlie  breath 
of  Divine  life  l^reatlied  into  it.  Thus  man  is  of  twofold  origin. 
In  respect  of  Ids  body  and  sold,  he  belongs  to  nature  (to  the 
animal  sphere),  and  is  the  highest  product  of  nature.  Again, 
in  so  far  as  a  godlike  spirit  dwells  in  him,  he  is  above  nature, 
and  the  oflfspriug  of  God  (Acts  x\di.  28,  29).  In  \drtue  of  this 
twofold  character,  he  forms  the  link  between  God  and  nature, 
and  is  the  representative  of  God,  the  Priest  and  the  King  of 
Nature.  Tlie  indwelling  of  the  breath  of  the  Lord  constitutes 
hixn  the  image  of  God,  destined  for,  and  capable  of,  Divine 
Wisdom  and  Power,  Holiness  and  Blessedness.  Thus  he  is  in- 
tended to  rule  over  nature,  and  to  lead  it  onwards  to  perfection. 
A  garden  in  the  land  of  Eden  (3)  is  his  first  abode  and  sphere 
of  usefulness  ;  to  dress  it  and  to  keep  it  is  the  commencement  of 
nn  artivitv  whoso  ond  nnd  aim  is  dominion  over  the  wholo  earth 


70  PREPARATOIIY  HISTORY.    (§  21.) 

But  even  as  Nature,  so  man  also  was  both  capable  of  develop- 
ment and — dependent ;  with  this  diiference  only,  that  as  Nature 
is  destitute  of  freedom,  it  requires  to  be  conducted  to  the  goal  of 
its  development,  while  man,  as  a  free  and  personal  spirit,  was 
himself  to  rise  to  it  in  the  exercise  of  a  free  choice  and  of  per- 
sonal activity.  For  this  purpose,  it  was  necessary  for  liim  to 
emerge  from  the  stage  of  mere  existence,  by  making  a  personal 
choice  and  decision.  The  tree  of  the  hioivledge  of  good  and  of 
evil,  with  the  command  not  to  eat  of  its  fruit — and,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  tree  of  life,  wliich,  by  the  positive  purpose  it  was  to 
serve,  supplemented  the  negative  purpose  of  the  other  tree  and 
formed  its  counterpart,  became  the  occasion  of  this  choice.  But 
before  this  free  development  of  man  coidd  commence,  the  absence 
of  generic  distinction  must  give  place  to  sexual  contrast.  Mar- 
riage must  be  instituted  as  the  commencement  and  the  condition 
of  all  historical  development,  and  as  the  means  by  wliich  alone 
the  various  races  of  men  (4)  could  people  of  one  blood  the  whole 
earth,  and  have  dominion  over  it.  Man  is  a  free  and  a  personal 
being,  nor  coidd  any  kind  of  development  be  forced  upon  him. 
Even  that  of  the  distinction  of  sexes  presupposes  at  least  the 
consent  of  his  deshe  and  longing.  To  awaken  the  latter,  the 
Lord  brings  to  Adam  the  animals  in  whom  the  sexes  were  already 
marked — at  the  same  time  also  an  act  of  homage  on  their  part 
as  his  vassals,  and  a  means  for  developing  his  knowledge  and 
capacity  of  language.  Thus  the  desire  after  an  help-meet  of  the 
same  kind  with  himself  is  awakened  in  man,  and  then  God 
builds  from  a  ^^^j  (a  rib  ?  the  side  ?)  of  man,  woman,  whom  he 
at  once  recognises  as  flesh  of  his  flesh,  and  bone  of  his  bone. 

(1.)  The  question,  what  exact  meaning  attaches  to  the  ex- 
pression »jp|^i  "ij-f j:^ — whether  it  indicates  entire  absence  of  Hfe, " 

or  only  that  creation  was  not  yet  pervaded  by  life,  or  whether  it 
implies  an  actual  desolation,  succeeding  a  former  state  of  order 
and  of  life — is  indeed  of  great  imjjortance  to,  and  influence  on, 
Racred  history,  but  not  with  reference  to  that  part  of  it  which 
constitutes  the  history  of  the  Old  Covenant.  In  another  place 
(Bible  and  Astron.,  3d  ed.,  Berl.  1853,  ch.  iv.,  and  suppl.  1),  we 
have  expressed,  and  shown  ground  for,  our  opinion  that  the  ac- 
count of  the  creation  does  not  oblige  us  to  decide  either  one  way 
or  the  other,  inasmuch  as  the  narrator,  like  a  faithful  witness, 


CREATION  AND  DESTINY  OF  MAN.    (§  '21.)  71 

only  relates  wliat  (witli  })roplietic  retrospect,  §  20,  1)  lie  had 
beheld.  At  the  same  time,  a  comparison  of  other  Hcriptnral 
statements  point  to  it  as  very  prohable  that  the  original  Tohu- 
va-Bohu  was  the  theatre  and  the  consequence  of  the  first  fall, 
viz.,  that  in  the  angelic  world. 

(2.)  With  reference  to  the  much-mooted  question  whether 
the  days  of  creation  in  Gen.  i.  are  natural  or  prophetic  days, 
we  have  shown  at  large  in  our  work,  "  Bible  and  Astron.,"  3d  ed., 
ch.  iv.,  §  4,  that  criticism  must,  if  impartial,  explain  these  crea- 
tive as  natural  days,  i.e.,  such  as  are  bounded  by  light  and  dark- 
ness, and  consist  of  evening  and  morning,  day  and  night.  But 
of  course  the  duration  of  these  days,  according  to  the  measure 
of  the  clock,  cannot  be  determined,  at  least  ^^^[th  reference  to  the 
first  three  days.  In  the  same  work,  we  have  also  shown  that 
the  conclusions  of  geology  may  be  reconciled  with  this  exegetical 
inference,  and  that,  even  though  we  were  to  grant  that  geology 
coidd  claim  thousands  or  even  miUions  of  years  for  its  premun- 
dane  creative  periods. 

(3.)  The  question  as  to  the  geographical  situation  of 
Paradise  has  in  part  been  set  aside  as  irrelevant  (by  those  who 
advocate  the  mythical  view),  in  part  given  up  as  indeterminable 
on  account  of  the  changes  which  the  flood  had  occasioned  on  the 
face  of  the  globe,  and  in  part  been  attempted  to  be  answered  in 
various  ways,  by  a  combination  of  the  geographical  data-  of  the 
text  with  certain  other  inferences  and  conjectures.  Comp. 
Winer's  Real-Lex.,  sub.  v.  Eden,  and,  besides  the  authorities 
there  quoted,  also  E.  Bertheau  (the  geographical  views  on  which 
the  description  of  Paradise  is  based,  Gottg.  1848).^  The  latter  has 
discharged  his  task  in  a  thoroughly  scientific  manner,  and  brought 
to  it  an  equal  amount  of  acuteness  and  of  learning,  although 
the  materials  at  his  disposal  were  not  sufficient  to  enable  him  to 
reach  perfectly  secure  conclusions.  Bertheau  starts  with  the 
view  that,  in  determining  the  statements  of  Genesis,  we  reqiure 
wholly  to  discard,  in  the  first  place,  our  present  geographical 
knowledge,  and  to  keep  exclusively  by  the  most  ancient  o})inions 
concerning  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  the  geographical  distri- 
bution of  its  countries,  seas,  and  rivers.  He  identifies  the  Bison, 
which  compasseth  the  whole  land  of  Havilah,  where  thei-e  is 
gold,  with  the  Ganges,  as  the  Fathers  and  Josephus  had  done. 
Hence  he  supposes  that  Havilah  must,  according  to  the  geo- 
gi'aphical  views  of  the  Israelites,  be  considered  as  the  eastern 
part  of  the  earth,  beyond  the  country  of  the  Eui)hrates  and  the 
Tigris.     The  river  (Jihon,  which  compasseth  the  whole  land  ot 

^  Comp.  also  an  articlo  hy  Rudschi,  \\\  Iler/.og's  Real-Encycl.,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
642,  et  sq.^THE  Tr. 


72  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  21.) 

Cusli  (i.e.,  according  to  Gren.  x.,  the  countries  of  the  southern 
zone),  he  identifies  with  the  Nile,  supposing  that,  according  to 
the  defective  geographical  knowledge  of  his  time,  the  narrator 
had  supposed  that  it  rose  in  Asia,  and  that,  flowing  first  from 
north  to  south,  then  turning  and  encircling  the  Persian  and  the 
Red  Sea,  and  finally  passing  northwards  and  tlii'ough  Egypt,  it 
flowed  into  the  Mediterranean.  From  a  passage  in  Strabo  (15, 
1,  25),  and  in  Arrian  (6,  1),  which  states  that  Alexander  the 
Great  had  fancied  that  the  rivers  of  north-western  India  were 
the  commencement  of  the  Nile,  and  from  a  legend  recorded  by 
Pausanias  (ii.  5  2),  to  the  efi'ect  that  the  Nile  and  the  Euphrates 
were  the  same  river,  the  latter  losing  itself  in  the  mud,  and  de- 
scending from  Etliiopia  under  the  name  of  Nile — Bertheau  infers 
that  the  connection  of  the  Persian  Gulf  with  the  Southern  Ocean 
had  been  unknown  in  ancient  times,  and  the  rise  of  the  Nile 
generally  supposed  to  have  been  in  Asia.  He  also  reminds  us 
of  the  settled  tradition  concerning  the  identity  of  the  Gihon  and 
the  Nile,  expressed  so  early  as  by  the  LXX.  translation  of  Jer. 
ii.  18,  and  even  retained  by  Josephus,  the  Fathers,  and  the  By- 
zantines, long  after  a  more  accurate  knowledge  of  the  connection 
between  southern  Asia  and  eastern  Africa  had  been  obtained, 
and  wliich  obhged  those  who  continued  to  hold  by  the  above- 
mentioned  tradition  to  have  recourse  to  the  supposition  that  the 
Nile  flowed  under  ground,  and  suddenly  reappeared  in  Africa. 
The  other  rivers  are  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  (the  Hidde- 
kel),  with  which  the  narrator  was  better  acquainted,  and  wliich 
he  therefore  represents  as  flowing  into  the  Persian  Gulf,  without 
making  them  encc^mjjass  any  land.  The  -)j-|;],  whose  branches 
become  four  rivers,  Berthecm  supposes  to  represent  the  Caspian 
Sea.  This  "  river,"  it  is  suggested,  recalls  the  Okeanos  of  Homer, 
from  which  all  the  rivers  and  seas  of  the  globe  are  declared  to 
derive  their  water,  and  which  the  poet  also  designates  as  irora- 
fjLo^.  Hence  the  land  of  Eden  had,  in  the  opinion  of  the  narra- 
tor, lain  on  the  northern  boundary  of  the  earth,  even  as  all  the 
nations  of  Asia,  south  of  the  Armenian  and  Persian  higlflands, 
had,  from  the  most  ancient  times,  placed  the  dweUing-place  of 
the  gods  in  the  farthest  north. 

But  even  if  the  geographical  views  underlying  the  Biblical 
record  were  as  defective  and  erroneous  as  Bertheau  supposes  them 
to  have  been,  tliis  Avould  not  materially  affect  the  character  of 
the  narrative  as  a  revelation,  for  revelation  has  only  religious 
knowledge  for  its  aim.  Thus  in  the  case  under  consideration, 
it  is  the  religious  purjjort  of  the  narrative  about  ParacUse  to 
communicate  instruction  about  the  blessedness  and  the  holiness 
of  the  original  state  of  man,  and  about  the  starting-point  of  his 
development,  wliich  became  the  historv  of  the  world  and  of  sal- 


CREATION  AND  DESTINY  OF  MAN.    (§  21.)  73 

vation.  Hence  to  describe  the  appearance  of  Paradise  was  ab- 
solutely necessary  lor  the  purposes  which  the  narrator  had  in 
view.  But  in  order  to  give  to  such  a  narrative  a  definite  and 
stable  form,  he  had  to  indicate  the  situation  of  Paradise.  What 
sacred  tradition  recorded  on  tlie  subject,  the  wiiter  of  Genesis 
only  j)laced  in  the  frame  of  the  geograpliical  views  of  his  time. 
If  these  were  defective  and  erroneous,  it  formed  no  part  of  the 
object  of  revelation  to  anticipate  by  centuries  or  thousands  of 
years  the  progress  of  geographical  science.  The  ciixumstance 
that  the  sacred  record  is  a  revelatioti,  only  authenticates  that 
situation  of  Paradise  ivhich  the  descriptio7i  of  the  text  woidd 
indicate,  according  to  tlie  geographiccd  notions  of  that  time,  hut 
it  does  not  authenticate  those  geographical  notions  themselves. 

However,  we  feel  convinced  that  Bertheau's  argumentation 
cannot  by  any  means  be  taken  as  conclusive.  We  cannot  be- 
lieve that  a  writer  who  knew  Egyjit  so  well  could  ha^'e  sup- 
posed, tar  less  that  it  was  the  common  opinion  in  Eg}^t  itself, 
that  the  Nile  and  the  Ganges  were  identical,  and  that  the  Persian 
Gulf,  together  with  the  Ked  Sea,  was  a  lake,  bordered  on  the 
south  by  an  immense  tract  of  land,  which  connected  Asia  and 
Africa.  The  strange  (and,  perhaps,  merely  legendary)  ignorance 
uf  Alexander  is  the  less  intelligible,  as  Herodotus  had  abeady 
entertained  more  correct  notions,  nor  is  it  warrantable,  from  the 
views  current  among  the  Greeks  at  a  later  period,  to  di'aw 
inferences  as  to  the  knowledge  possessed  by  the  Egy]-)tians  of  an 
earlier  age.  Far  less  can  we  regard  the  ideas  of  Josephus  and 
of  the  Fathers  as  to  the  identity  of  the  Nile  and  the  Gihon  as 
justifying  us  in  assuming  that  the  author  of  the  book  of  Genesis 
had  shared  the  same  opinion.  It  rather  appears  to  us  that  this 
notion,  which  afterwards  retained  so  firm  a  hold  on  the  minds 
of  Aviiters,  had  originated  among  the  Eclectics  of  Alexandria, 
and  thence  found  its  way  into  the  LXX.,  Josephus,  and  the 
Fathers.  Just  as  the  inhabitants  of  Palestine  wished  to  substi- 
tute the  Jordan  for  the  Gihon  (Wisd.  of  Sir.,  xxiv.  28),  so  the 
Hellenists  naturally  sought  to  vindicate  tliis  honour  for  their 
Nile.  The  absurdity  of  such  a  hyj^othesis,  in  a  geograpliical 
point  of  view,  was  no  obstacle  in  their  way.  They  assumed  that 
the  Gihon  had  forced  its  way  under  ground  to  Egypt,  and  pro- 
pounded it  the  more  readily  as,  even  at  the  time  of  Herodotus, 
the  sources  of  the  Nile  were  unknown  in  Egypt.  But  it  must 
be  held  as  decisive  against  this  view  that  the  river  in  question  is 
not  designated  by  a  term  usually  given  to,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
by  one  which  is  never  applied  to  the  Nile  in  the  Old  Testament. 
The  opinion  of  Delitzsch  that  the  Upper  Nile  may  have  borne 
the  name  of  Gihon  is  altogether  unfounded,  and  does  not  meet 
the  ditficulty  ;  for,  had  the  narrator  meant  that  i-iver.  wliy  eschew 


74  PKEPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  21.) 

the  name  of  the  Lower  Nile,  so  well  known  to  the  ancients,  and 
choose  a  less  known  name  of  the  Upper  Nile,  wliich  would  so 
readily  lead  to  mistakes  ? 

In  fact,  we  feel  con^anced  that  other  interpretations  have 
equal,  if  not  greater,  claims  to  our  consideration  than  the 
hypothesis  started  by  Bertheau.  Among  them,  that  proposed 
by  Calvin,  Huetius,  Bochart,  &c.,  has  this  advantage,  that  it 
actually  points  out  a  river  with  four  "  arms"  (manifestly  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  the  matter).  According  to  this  interpre- 
tation the  Shat-el-Arab,  or  united  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  is  the 
Nahar  of  the  Garden  of  Eden — the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris, 
together  with  their  two  mouths,  are  the  four  Rashim — the  Persian 
province  of  CJmsistan  is  the  land  of  Cush — and  Havilah  the 
same  as  the  Cholotawi,  who,  according  to  Strabo,  lived  in  an 
adjoining  portion  of  Arabia,  celebrated  for  its  gold.  But  this  hy- 
pothesis also,  irrespective  of  other  difficulties  which  might  readily 
be  mentioned,  does  not  agree  with  the  description  in  the  text  of 
a  river  which  divides  into  four  branches  outside  of  the  garden. 

Reland  and  Calmet  identify  the  river  Pison  with  the  Phasis, 
which  rises  in  the  Moschus  mountains  and  is  connected  with 
Colchis  (==  Havilah),  the  ancient  gold-land;  Gihon  with  the 
Araxes  (pji^j  =  apdrrw  =  to  break  forth),  which  to  this  day 

bears  the  same  name  among  the  Persians,  and  also  rises  in  the 
mountains  of  Armenia  and  falls  into  the  Caspian  Sea  ;  and  Cush 
with  the  country  of  the  Cosseans  in  the  "vicinity  of  Media  and 
of  the  Caspian  Sea.  Irrespective  of  the  objection  that  this 
hypothesis  does  not  point  out  any  common  Nahar,  it  woidd  have 
seemed  to  us  the  most  probable.  It  is,  indeed,  true  that  the 
explanation  wliich  identihes  Cush  with  the  land  of  the  Cosseans 
contravenes  the  general  Biblical  statements  concerning  Cush 
(=  Ethiopia).  But  j^erhaps  the  remark  of  J.  P.  Lange  (pos. 
Dogm.,  p.  400)  may  meet  this  difficulty.  He  observes;  "  Even 
the  Nile  does  not  compass  Ethiopia.  Probably  it  may  be 
assumed  that  the  land  of  Cush  had,  so  to  speak,  moved  south- 
wards, just  as,  for  example,  a  portion  of  the  Norwegians  brought 
with  them  their  Normandy  and  the  Greeks  their  HeUas  into 
Italy.  Perhaps  the  country  of  the  Cosseans  may  indicate  a 
similar  movement  of  the  Cushites  southwards." 

Among  the  other  numerous  hyjiotheses,  we  only  mention  that 
oi  Karl  v.  Raumer  (Palest.,  3d  ed.,  p.  424),  although  we  cannot 
admit  its  correctness.  That  scholar  also  seeks  the  original  Para- 
disaical abode  of  men  in  the  Ai-menian  highlands.  The  rivei- 
Pison  he  identifies  with  the  Phasis  of  Xenophon,  which,  as 
Mann€7't  has  shown,  is  the  Araxes  ;  the  land  Ha\dlah,  com- 
passed by  the  Pison,  is  then  the  country  anciently  inhabited  b}' 
the  Chvalissi,  and  which  had  foi'merly  been  an  island.     The 


CREATION  AND  DESTINY  OF  MAN.    (§  21.)  75 

name  is  still  preserved,  as  the  Caspian  Sea  is  still  called  by  the 
Russians  "  Chwalinskoye  More."  But  this  hy]iothesis  leaves  the 
Gihon  unaccounted  for. 

lieland,  Bertheau,  and  Raumcr  agree  in  this,  that  the  high- 
lands of  Ai-menia  possess  the  liighest  claim  to  be  regarded  as  the 
garden  of  Eden.  This  nnist  appear  the  more  certain,  as  the 
mention  of  the  rivers  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  which  must  have 
been  w^ell  known  to  the  narrator,  point  to  this  locality  beyond 
the  possibility  of  doubt. 

Manifestly  the  chief  difficulty  in  our  way  is  presented  by  the 
wording  of  Gen.  ii.  10.  This  verse  is  commonly  rendered — 
"  And  a  river  went  out  of  Eden  to  water  the  garden  ;  and  from 
thence  it  was  parted,  and  became  four  heads  (arms,  branches)." 
If  this  translation  is  correct,  we  admit  that  it  is  abst)lutely  im- 
possible to  reconcile  the  narrative  ^^^th  geograpliical  facts.  In 
that  case,  nothing  would  be  left  but  to  cut  the  knot  by  account- 
ing for  the  irreconcilable  difficulty  by  the  geographical  ignorance 
of  the  period  when  the  narrative  was  composed,  or  by  assuming 
that  some  tremendous  catastrophe  had  so  changed  the  appear- 
ance of  Eden,  that  rivers  which  had  formerly  been  branches  of 
one  and  the  same  river,  are  now  parted  in  their  sources  by  hun- 
dreds of  miles.  To  ascribe  this  revolution  to  the  flood  is  neither 
warranted  by  the  Biblical  narrative,  nor  in  accordance  with  the 
conclusions  of  geology.  But  we  cannot  account  for  it  on  the 
ground  of  geographical  ignorance,  regarding,  as  we  do,  the  whole 
narrative  as  a  tradition  from  primitive  times,  and  not  as  an 
apocr\^)hal  collection  of  myths  dating  from  a  later  period.  For 
even  if  we  supposed  that  the  names  of  the  rivers  were  derived  from 
the  geographical  notions  current  at  the  time  when  the  record 
was  comjjosed — in  which  indeed  there  might  be  room  for  mis- 
takes— the  Nahar  and  the  llaskim  into  which  it  parts  woidd  still 
have  to  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  original  tradition. 
But  a  more  accurate  examination  of  the  words  shows  that  the 
above  rendering  of  the  verse  is  not  correct.  It  is  an  obvious 
mistake  to  interpret  Q'^';^^-^  as  branches  or  arms.  A  figure  of 
speech  so  thorouglily  reversed  and  misplaced  can  scarcely  be 
supposed  in  any  language  or  among  any  nation.  If  "^t^-^  is  to 
indicate  an}^  portion  of  a  river,  common  sense  would  seem  to 
demand  that  it  should  only  apply  to  its  soui'ce  or  upper  part. 
A  river  with  four  heads  cannot  be  one  which,  after  lia\dng  for 
some  time  flowed  as  one  stream,  is  afterwards  parted  into  four 
branches.  Evidently  it  nmst  mean  a  river  foiined  by  the  junc- 
tion of  four  sources.  If  the  narrator  had  wished  to  express  the 
meaning  wliich  om'  translators  convey,  he  would  have  designated 

the  ■^p52  ^^  the  x^^-^j  '^^^^^  ^1^*^  D"'U>t^'^  ^^  ^^^  D'^in2-     ^^^^  ^* 
these  four  rivers  are  themselves  sources  (heads)  then  the  -^pfj  of 


76  PREPARATOKY  HISTORY.    (§  21.j 

tlie  garden  can  no  longer  be  viewed  as  their  common  origin. 
We  are  therefore  inclined  to  adopt  the  oft-controverted  explana- 
tion, according  to  which  "^pj^  must  be  viewed  as  a  collective 
noun,  indicating  the  abundance  of  water  in  the  garden.  This 
view  is  farther  confirmed  by  the  addition  of  the  expression  "  to 
water"  while  in  this  light  the  absence  of  the  numeral  one  (with 
reference  to  the  river),  by  way  of  contrast  to  the  four  (heads  or 
branches),  appears  also  striking.  Nor  does  the  expression  q;^^;^^ 
•7'^g"!  militate  against  this  view ;  for  the  niph.  of  -|-^q  is  never 

employed  to  indicate  the  divergence  into  many  of  what  formerly 
had  been  one,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  divergence  of  things 
which  had  formerly  independently  existed  side  by  side  with  each 
other.  Comp.  especially  the  parallel  instances  in  Gen.  xxv.  23, 
and  X.  32.  The  meaning  therefore  appears  to  be  this,  that  the 
river-system  of  the  garden  {i.e.,  the  rivers  wliich,  during  their 
com-se  in  the  garden,  had  still  flowed  side  by  side  with  each 
other)  diverged  outside  of  the  garden,  and  then  flowed  in  dif- 
ferent, and  partly  in  opposite  directions.  In  that  case,  the  ex- 
pression D^Xi^^i  must,  with  Luther,  Rosenmiiller,  and  others 
(also  om-  Enghsh  authorised  version),  be  taken  as  designating 
flumina  principalia,  a  view  which,  in  other  respects,  appears  to 
be  quite  correct. 

(4.)  Some   naturalists  and   philosophers,  such  as  Borg,  St 
Vincent,  DesmouUn,  OJcen,  Burmeister,  &c.,have,  on  the  gromid 
of  the  differences  of  colour,  hair,  cranium,  and  bodily  structure 
among  the  so-called  races  of  men,  as  well  as  on  that  of  the  dif- 
ference of  languages,  denied  the  original  unity  of  the  human  race. 
Among  the  vast  number  of  those  who  have  controverted  their 
arguments  and  defended  the  imity  of  the  race,  we  select  the  fol- 
lowing:— 1.  Among  Naturalists — Buffon   disc,  sur  la  variete 
dans  I'espece  humaine  ;  Guvier,  tableaux  element,  de  I'hist.  nat. 
des  animaux,  Paris,  1827  ;  Blumenhach  de  generis  humani  varie- 
tate  nativa,  Gott.  1795  ;  Bud.  Wagner  Antln-opol.  ii.,  p.  209,  et 
sq.  ;  Andr.  Wagner,  Hist,  of  the  Primeval  World,  Leipz.  1845  ; 
G.  H.  V.  Schubert,  the  Kosmos,  p.  651,  et  sq.  ;  and  especially 
H.  Liiken,  the  Unity  of  the  Pace,  and  its  spread  over  the  face 
of  the  globe,  Hann.  1845.     2.  Among  Philosophers  we  mention 
— H.  Steffens  Anthropol.  ii.  365,  et  sq.  ;  the  same  author's  Kelig. 
Philos.  of  Christ.,  i.  287,  et  sq.  ;  and  liis  Miscellan.  Writings, 
ii.  365,  et  seq. ;  Hillehrand  Anthrop.  Mayence,  1822,  vol.  ii.  ;  H. 
H.  on  the  various  Races,  in  pt.  ii.  of  the  German  Quarterly  ;  A . 
V.  Humboldt  in  Kosmos,  vol.  i.  ;   Wuttke,  History  of  Heathen.,  i. 
27,  et  sq.     3.  Among  Geographers — G.  A.   Wimmer,  Cosmol. 
Propaed.  to  Geogr.,  Vienna,  1833  ;  Boon,  The  Globe,  its  Nations 
and  States,  vol.  iii.,  1,  sect.  iv.     The  most  important  work  is 
Prichard's  Researches  into  the  Physical  History  of  Mankind. 


FALL  AND  FIRST  PROMISE  OF  REDEMPTION.    (§  22.)  77 

London,  1828.  4.  Among-  Divines  we  name — A.  Tholuck, 
Miscell.  Writings,  ii.  239,  set  sq.  ;  J.  P.  Lange,  Miscell.  Writ- 
ings, i.  89,  et  sq.  ;  and  Dr  Wiseman,  Connection  between 
Science  and  Revelation.  The  necessity  of  assuming  the  unity 
of  the  species  may  be  shown  on  anatomical, physiological  (among 
others,  from  the  continuous  and  fruitful  intermarriages  of  mem- 
bers of  various  races),  on  psychological,  and  on  ethical  grounds. 
But  it  must  be  allowed  that  the  problem  regarding  the  formation 
of  different  races  has  not  yet  been  fully  solved.  The  co-operation 
of  powerful  physical  (especially  climatic)  and  ethical  causes  dm-- 
ing  the  infancy  of  the  species  must,  in  the  meantime,  be  taken 
as  affording  a  sufficient  general  explanation  for  a  divergence 
which  by  and  bye  became  fixed. 


THE  FALL  AND  THE  FIRST  PROMISE  OF  REDEMPTION. 

{Liter,  of  the  subject — J.  P.  Liiderwald,  the  Allegor.  Inter- 
pret, of  the  Fall  shown  to  be  unfounded,  Helmst,  1701  ;  A. 
Tholuck  in  the  Append,  to  "  Sin  and  the  Redeemer ;"  Krahhe 
on  Sin  and  Death,  ch.  iv.  ;  Jul.  Miiller,  the  Christian  Doctr.  of 
Sin  (transl.  by  Eev.  W.  Pulsford— Edinburgh,  T.  &  T.  Clark), 
vol.  ii.  ;  Hdvernick,  the  Theol.  of  the  0.  T.,  p.  86,  et  sq.  ;  E. 
Sartorius,  Doctr.  of  Holy  Love,  Stuttg.,  i.  86,  et  sq. ;  The 
Author's  Bible  and  Astron.,  ch.  iv.  ;  Hofmomn  Scriptur.  De- 
monstr.,  sect.  iii.  and  iv.) 

§  22.  (Gen.  iii.) — The  liints  apparently  thrown  out  even  in 
Gen.  i.  2,  and  ii.  15,  that  evil  already  existed  in  the  world, 
wliich,  however,  man  was  to  overcome  and  to  set  aside,  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned,  are  soon  confirmed.  The  tempter,  in  the 
form  of  a  serpent  (1),  meets  man,  and  man  is  seduced  by  him. 
The  tempter  succeeded  in  introducing  into  the  soid  of  man  lust 
after  the  forbidden  fruit,  and  lust  brought  forth  sin,  and  sin 
death.  (James  i.  15.)  It  actually  happened  as  the  seducer  hnd 
promised,  though  in  malice  and  in  an  evil  sense.  Their  eyes 
were  opened  (v.  7),  but  they  only  saw  their  nakedness  and  were 
ashamed  ;  they  knew  good  and  evil,  but  only  by  their  sad  loss  of 
what  was  good,  and  by  their  disastrous  experience  of  what  was 
evil.  Man  became  as  God  (v.  22),  i.e.,  he  ceased  to  be  the  re- 
presentative and  vicar  of  God,  he  emancipated  himself  from  God, 


78  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  22.) 

and  assiuned  independent  command  and  action.  Such  "  becom- 
ing as  Grod"  did  not,  however,  make  him  blessed,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  infinitely  wretcJied  and  2)007\  Death,  the  wages  of 
sin,  took  hold  on  his  whole  being,  and  brought  along  with  it  a 
whole  host  of  miseries,  of  sorrows,  and  of  curses.  Man,  formed 
from  the  dust,  who  had  dared  to  attemj)t  loithout  God  to  be  as 
God,  must,  on  accomit  of  this  rebellion,  return  to  the  dust  whence 
he  was  taken.  But  man  had  not  of  liis  own  accord  produced 
sin  in  himself  It  was  rather  something  foreign  to,  and  forced 
upon  him  by  a  seduction  from  without,  which  indeed  he  might 
and  shoidd  have  withstood.  His  whole  being  had  been  pervaded 
SivA  poisoned  by  sin,  but  it  had  not  itself  become  sin.  Something  is 
still  left  within  him  that  opposes  sin,  and  does  not  find  pleasure 
in  it ;  the  Divine  image  in  man  is  not  wholly  annihilated  (Gen, 
ix.  6  ;  James  iii.  9  ;  Acts  xvii.  28,  29) — on  the  contrary,  it  as- 
serts its  existence  in  relation  to  sin,  as  the  voice  of  conscieiice  in 
feelings  of  shame  and  of  repentance.  Hence  man  both  requires 
salvation  and  is  capable  of  it,  and  God  does  not  leave  him  to 
himself  and  to  his  misery,  but,  in  the  prosecution  of  an  eternal 
counsel  of  grace,  commences  to  prepare  and  to  train  him  for  sal- 
vation. The  first  manifestation  of  this  council  is  the  curse  pro- 
nounced against  the  seducer  (2),  when  God  distinctly  and 
avowedly  takes  the  part  of  man  against  the  tempter,  and 
promises  to  man  a  iinal  and  decisive  victory  over  the  author  of 
e\al.  Marriage,  which  had  been  the  vehicle  of  the  fall,  is  now 
also  to  become  that  of  salvation  ;  the  seed  of  the  woman  is  to 
bruise  the  head  of  the  seed  of  the  serpent.  Eve,  the  mother  of 
all  living,  is  to  bring  forth  children,  although  in  sorroiv,  and 
through  child-bearing  is  salvation  to  be  brought  about.  An  un- 
broken succession  of  children  are  to  be  become  hnks  in  the  Old 
Testament  development,  and  to  prepare  the  way  for  salvation. 
But  Paradise  is  henceforth  shut  against  man,  and  Cherubim  with 
flaming  sword  (3)  prevent  his  access  to  the  tree  of  life.  The 
ground  which  had  been  cursed  becomes  now  his  place  of  abode 
and  of  discipline  ;  labour  in  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  to  be  followed 
by  death  as  the  sum  of  all  earthly  ills,  is  his  lot,  inasmuch  as  sin 
must  meet  its  reward,  and  all  its  consequences  must  apjjear ;  all 
its  efiects  must  be  endured,  and  Di^dne  justice  exact  a  full  and 
unconditional  vindication  of  its  demands. 


FALL  A\D  FIRST  PROMISE  OF  REDEMPTION.    (§  22.)  TU 

(1.)  It  can  scarcely  be  called  iii  question  that  the  record  had 
the  agency  of  an  evil  spiritual  being  in  view  Avhen  it  speaks  of 
the  SERPENT,  although  it  is  a  point  of  considerable  difficulty  to 
ascertain  in  what  manner  the  writer  understood  that  the  will  of 
Satan  was  executed  by  the  serpent.  It  is  difficult,  if  not  impos- 
sible to  gather  the  idea  in  the  mind  of  the  wi'iter  from  the  data 
before  us.  The  reaso7i  of  this  want  of  distinctness  was  no  doubt 
a  desire,  instead  of  interrupting  the  childlike  and  simple  cha- 
racter of  the  narrative  (which,  indeed,  makes  it  so  sublime), 
which  was  a  sacred  and  veneraljle  relic  of  primeval  times,  to 
present  it  in  all  its  plainness,  and  Avithout  the  addition  of  any 
gloss  or  comment.  In  fact,  the  sacred  record  faithfully  presents 
the  recollections  and  percept io7is  of  the  first  man,  as  preserved 
by  tradition.  So  much,  however,  is  certain,  that  the  teacliing 
of  the  Bible  concerning  Satan  has  its  foundation  in  wdiat  is  here 
recorded  about  the  history  of  the  fall  and  about  the  ser])ent.  So 
soon  as  man  had  commenced  to  reflect  on  this  event,  he  must 
have  gathered  from  it  the  existence  of  a  sjiiritual  being  opposed 
to  God.  For  tliis  he  did  not  require  the  aid  of  a  special  instruc- 
tion or  revelation.  Satan  had  liistorically  manifested  himself  in 
the  serpent.  Where  facts  speak,  any  further  verbal  instruction 
becomes  unnecessary. 

2.  This  interpretation  throws  light  on  the  curse,  as  pro- 
nounced against  the  seipent.  So  far  as  its  form  is  concerned,  it 
seems  to  apply,  solely  and  exclusively,  to  the  serpent.  But  as, 
in  reality,  the  curse  was  pronounced  for  the  scdce  of  man,  and 
not  for  that  of  the  serpent,  the  language  was  adapted  to  man's 
pecidiar  mode  of  conception,  in  which  the  outward  appearance 
of  the  serpent  and  the  s]  )iritual  princi|)le  of  evil  were  not  yet  sepa- 
rated. The  seducer  had  appeared  to  man  as  a  serpent,  and 
hence  he  \aewed  the  curse  pronounced  against  the  serpent  as 
applying  to  the  author  of  sin,  and  the  distinction  of,  and  victory 
over,  the  serpent  by  the  seed  of  the  woman  as  deliverance  from 
his  power  and  influence.  Thus  we  have  here  a  "  Protoevan- 
GELiUM,"  which  evidently  conveyed  to  man  that  the  relationship 
subsisting  between  the  seducer  and  the  seduced  was  not  to  con- 
tinue such  as  it  had  become  when  the  tempter  prevailed.  Al- 
though man  had  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  into  fellowship 
with  the  seducer,  this  iellowshij)  was  not  to  be  permanent.  In- 
stead of  friendship  and  fellowship  between  them,  there  was  to  be 
enmity  and  a  continual  contest,  which  was  at  last  to  terminate 
in  the  complete  defeat  of  the  seducer.  All  mankind  (the  seed  of 
the  woman)  was  to  wage  this  battle  Avitli  the  author  of  sin,  and 
in  virtue  of  the  Divine  will,  to  come  Adctorious  out  of  the  con- 
flict. 

(3.)  Although  Gen.   iii.   gives  little   information  as   to   the 


80  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  22.) 

character  and  import  of  the  Cherubim,  it  affords  sufficient  com- 
pletely to  refute  the  views  of  Bdhr  (Symbol  of  the  Mos.  Kit.,  i. 
340,  et  sq.),  who  regards  them  simply  as  the  creations  of  Sym- 
boHc,  and  destitute  of  all  objective  reahty — in  short,  as  the  re- 
presentations of  perfect  creature-hfe.  The  fact  that  even  such 
scholars  as  Hengstenherg  (Contrib.  iii.  643 ;  Comment,  on  Ke- 
velat.,  translated  by  Professor  Fairbairn — Edinburgh,  T.  &  T. 
Clark)  ;  Keil  (Temple  of  Solomon,  p.  107 — 147)  ;  and  Haver- 
nick  (Comment,  on  Ezek.,  and  Theol.  of  the  0.  T.,  p.  80)  have 
endorsed  this  hypothesis  cannot  affect  our  opinion  of  its  character. 
So  long  as  Gen.  ii.  and  iii.  are  regarded  as  historical  accounts, 
and  not  as  fabulous  myths  or  arbitrary  speculations,  the  real, 
personal  and  historical  existence  of  the  Cherubim  also  is  neces- 
sarily implied.  The  character,  the  original  position,  and  the 
purposes  of  the  Cherubim  may  be  gathered  from  Ps.  xviii.  11. 
From  the  context  of  that  verse,  we  learn  that  properly  they  were 
the  attendants  and  the  bearers  of  the  Divine  Glory  and  Majesty 
in  its  presence  and  activity  in  the  world.  They  are,  as  it  were, 
the  chariot  in  which  Elohim,  the  God  of  the  universe,  is  borne, 
when  He  manifests  Himself  in  the  world,  and  there  displays  His 
glory  as  King  and  Judge.  A  further  comparison  of  this  passage 
with  Ps.  civ.  3,  4,  will  prove  that  the  Cherubim  are  part  of  that 
spiritual  world  of  creatures  who  are  elevated  above  this  world, 
and  whom  we  commonly  designate  by  the  general  term  of  angels. 
Bearing  in  mind  our  former  distinction  (v.  §  13,  1)  between  the 
Divine  manifestation  as  Elohim  and  as  Jehovah,  we  shall  refer 
them,  as  indeed  angels  generally,  more  especially  to  the  sphere  of 
the  former,  without,  however,  of  course,  wholly  excluding  them 
from  that  of  the  latter,  inasmuch  as  Elohim  and  Jehovah  is  one 
and  the  same  God,  and  the  two  spheres  of  the  Divine  agency  are 
not  eccentric  but  concentric  circles  (do  not  exclude  but  inter- 
twine with  each  other).  But  Gen.  iii.  24  indicates  the  period 
when  these  angels  were  fii'st  transferred  from  the  Eloliistic  to 
the  Jehovistic  sphere  of  action.  "And  Jehovah  Elohim  drove 
out  the  man,  and  placed  (caused  to  dwell)  at  the  east  (the  en- 
trance to)  of  the  garden  of  Eden,  Cherubim  and  a  flaming  sword, 
which  turned  every  way  to  heep  the  way  of  the  tree  of  life.  This 
passage  is  evidently  intended  to  imply  a  contrast  to  Gen.  ii.  15 : 
— "  And  Jehovah  Eloliim  took  the  man  and  put  him  (caused  him 
to  settle  in)  into  the  garden  of  Eden  to  dress  it  and  to  keep  it." 
The  cherub  is  in  the  meantime  to  take  the  place  of  man.  For 
man  should  have  dwelt  in  the  garden  to  keep  it,  as  it  contained 
the  tree  of  life,  the  most  precious  treasure  of  terrestrial  nature. 
However,  man  was  also  to  dress  the  garden.  But  this  duty  is 
not  now  imposed  upon  the  cherub.  A  being  of  different  Idnd, 
he  is  not  suited  for  discharging  the  positive  duty  devolving  on 


FALL  AND  FIRST  PilOMISE  OF  REDEMPTION.     (§  22.)  81 

man.  It  follows  that  tlie  Cherub  is  only  intended  to  occupy 
Paradise  in  the  meantime,  and  that  man  has  the  prospect  of  re- 
turning to  it  at  a  future  period.  This  prospect  is  to  become  a 
reality  at  the  close  of  the  liistory  of  salvation.  (Eev.  xxi.  xxii.) 
The  heavenly  Jerusalem  in  the  transformed  earth  is  Paradise 
renewed,  enlarged,  transformed,  and  perfected,  and  there  we 
again  find  the  tree  of  Kfe,  and  the  river  of  the  water  of  life. 
There  also  man  is  to  dwell  again  with,  and  by  the  side  of  God. 
Then  we  read  no  more  of  the  Cherub.  Having  faitlifully  pre- 
served the  treasure  entrusted  to  his  keeping,  he  has  restored  it  to 
its  original  possessor. 

Elohim,  of  whom  Gen.  i.  speaks  as  the  God  of  the  universe, 
becomes,  in  the  second  and  third  chapters,  Jehovah,  or  the  God 
of  salvation.  He  becomes  such  when  He  plants  and  prepares 
the  garden  of  Eden  to  be  the  dwelUng-place  of  man,  and  the 
starting-point  in  his  history.  His  throne  is  in  the  heavens, 
borne  by  Cherubim,  and  sm^rounded  by  myi'iads  of  angels.  He 
now  purposes  to  prepare  for  Himself  also  a  dwelling-place  upon 
earth  ;  Paradise  is  meant  to  be  the  place  of  Jehovah's  throne  on 
earth,  and  man  is  intended  to  be  the  terrestrial  Chertib,  even  as 
the  Cherub  is  the  heavenly  man.  But  the  Fall  changes  the 
whole  aspect  of  things ;  man  must  now  be  driven  forth,  and  yet 
Paradise,  with  its  tree  of  life,  be  preserved.  Hence  God  places, 
in  the  meantime,  in  it  heavenly  beings  instead  of  man,  to  dwell 
there,  and  to  keep  it.  The  Cherubim  of  heaven  are  substituted 
for  the  Cherub  of  earth.  Wherever  the  Cherubim  are  there  is 
also  God,  for  they  bear  and  accompany  the  glory  of  God  in  the 
universe.  The  flaming  sword,  which  turns  every  way  to  prevent 
the  presumptuous  and  premature  return  of  man  on  whatever  side 
he  might  seek  to  force  an  entrance,  symbolises  the  consuming 
th'e  of  Divine  holiness. 

From  that  period  the  Cherubim  appear  not  only  as  bearing 
the  glory  of  Elohim  in  the  world,  but  also  as  supporting  the 
glory  of  Jehovah  in  salvation.  Accordingly  we  find  them  in  the 
most  holy  place  both  in  the  tabernacle  and  in  the  temple.  They 
appear  in  the  sublime  vision  of  Ezeldel  (i.  10),  and  in  that  of  the 
New  Testament  seer  (Rev.  iv.)  Ezeldel  describes  them  as  hav- 
ing four  faces — that  of  a  man,  of  a  lion,  of  an  eagle,  and  of  an 
ox.  According  to  Ho/mann  (Script.  Demonstr.,  i.  322),  these 
four  faces  "  represent  the  union  of  aU  powers  of  life — that  of  free 
consciousness,  characteristic  of  man  ;  that  of  power  and  courage, 
characteristic  of  the  lion  ;  that  of  firnmess  and  strength,  charac- 
teristic of  the  ox ;  and  that  of  certain  and  unchecked  rapidity, 
characteristic  of  the  engle."  Ee.  ides  this,  the  reference  pointed 
out  by  Schmieder  (in  0.  v.  Gerlach's  Bible,  iv.  1,  p.  431)  is  no 
doubt   apt : — "  We   readily   perceive   that  the  four   faces   are 

VOL  I.  F 


82  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  22.) 

borrowed  from  the  four  cliiefs  (kings)  of  terrestrial  creation. 
The  lion  is  king  of  all  the  animals  of  the  field,  the  ox  king  of 
the  flocks,  the  eagle  king  of  birds,  and  man  king  of  all  the 
earth."  It  is  only  from  the  point  of  view  to  wliich  we  have  above 
adverted  that  we  understand  why,  in  the  representations  of  art 
or  of  prophetic  vision,  the  Cherubim  assume  a  terrestrial  shape. 
The  Cherubim  are  substitutes  of  man.  If  it  is  objected  that  as 
man  is  "  king  of  all  the  earth,"  to  assume  liis  form  would  itself 
have  sufficed  for  the  purpose  in  view,  we  reply  that  both  this 
question  and  the  other  as  to  the  reason  why  the  Cherub  was 
substituted  for  man  to  inhabit  and  to  keep  Paradise,  are  answered 
in  Gen.  iii.  Before  liis  fall,  man,  created  in  the  lilveness  of  God, 
was  unconditionally  and  absolutely  the  climax  and  the  sum  of 
all  terrestrial  and  creatiu'e  perfection,  and  also  unconditionally 
and  absolutely  lord  and  king  over  all  the  animals.  But  the  Fall 
deprived  him  of  this  high  place.  The  animal  world  has  in  part 
at  least  emancipated  itself  from  his  dominion ;  and  to  humble 
him  it  also  appears  that  it  even  possesses  powers  and  capabilities 
which  man  has  not,  at  least  to  the  same  extent  or  in  the  same 
perfection.  Hence  every  creature  perfection  found  on  earth,  and 
no  longer  existing  in  man,  had  to  be  comprehended  and  com- 
bined along  with  the  form  of  man,  in  order  thus  to  exhibit  in 
the  Cherubim  an  appearance  corresponding  to  the  purpose  in 
view. 

The  record  furnishes  no  farther  notice  of  Paradise  or  of  its 
new  inhabitants  and  keepers.  But  during  the  time  of  Moses  the 
tabernacle  is  constructed,  in  which  the  most  holy  place  (as  shall 
more  fully  be  shown  in  another  vohune)  bears  so  manifest  a  rela- 
tion to  Paradise,  that  we  cannot  but  recognise  in  it  both  a  repre- 
sentation of  what  Paradise  had  been,  and  a  type  of  what,  in  its 
perfect  state  as  the  heavenly  JeiTisalem  (Kev.  xxi.  xxii.),  it  shall 
be.  The  tabernacle,  however,  was  not  the  immediate  counterpart 
of  what  Paradise  had  been,  but  a  portraiture  of  the  heavenly  and 
ideal  pattern  shown  to  Moses  on  the  mount.  (Ex.  xxv.  9-— 40.) 
Hence  between  Paradise  and  the  rearing  of  the  tabernacle  a 
series  of  events  must  have  intervened,  in  the  course  of  which 
Paradise,  or  rather  that  which  constituted  it  Paradise,  was  taken 
from  earth,  as  formerly  it  had  been  taken  from  man.  The  Lord 
withdrew  the  fulness  and  the  powers  of  life  which  He  had  for- 
merly bestowed  on  Paradise,  to  reserve  them  for  His  plan  of  sal- 
vation, and  again  to  communicate  them,  only  in  higher  develop- 
ment, to  the  earth  and  to  man,  in  a  history  wliich  was  to  start 
from  a  new  point.  When  the  earthly  sanctuary  is  constructed.  He 
again  restores  these  powers  in  the  meantime  to  His  chosen  people, 
and  in  the  form  of  a  sj^nbol,  but  not  merely  as  a  representation 
of  the  Paradise  wliich  had  been  lost,  but  also  as  the  type  of  the 


FALL  AND  FIRST  PROMISE  OF  REDEMPTION.     (§  22.)  83 

real  Paradise  which  was  afterwards  to  be  restored  to  man.  (Rev. 
xxi.)  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  oin-  al)ove  remarks  ex- 
press our  unde7\standing  of  these  events,  and  not  that  which,  at  the 
time,  either  Adam  or  the  Jewish  Lawgiver  had  possessed.  Wliat 
Adam  or  Moses  could  understand  or  divine  of  these  spiritual 
transactions  must  be  gathered  from  the  history  of  their  time,  and 
from  a  view  of  the  stage  to  which  they  had  attained  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  salvation. 

The  ftict,  inferred  from  Ex.  xxv.  9 — 40,  that  since  the  Fall 
Paradise  was  removed  from  earth,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately, 
that  it  was  deprived  of  its  paradisical  powers,  which  returned  to 
Him  who  had  given  them,  we  conceive  to  have  taken  place  at 
the  time  and  to  be  coincident  with  the  record  in  Gen.  iii.  24, 
according  to  which  Paradise  was  committed  to  the  charge  of 
Cherubim,  whose  dwelling-place  is  properly  in  heaven.  Man 
was  not  only  to  be  driven  from  ParacGse  ;  he  was  also  to  see  and 
to  experience  that  it  had  been  entrusted  to  others.  Hence  the 
miraculous  appearance  of  heavenly  beings,  manifest  to  his  senses. 
The  impression  of  terror  and  of  awe  wliich  this  heavenly  appa- 
rition must  have  left  on  him  had,  no  doubt,  for  a  long  time 
deprived  him  of  all  desire  to  return  to  the  garden  ;  and  if  at  any 
after  period  he  had  been  sufficiently  bold  to  seek  again  for  the 
place  of  his  former  blessedness,  he  woidd  only  come  upon  what 
every^vhere  surrounded  him — thorns  and  briers. 

This  view  of  the  Cherubim,  and  of  their  relation  to  the  history 
of  man's  salvation,  is  entirely  different  from  that  which  Hofmann 
has  declared  (Script.  Demonstr.  i.,  179,  et  sq. ;  317,  et  sq.)  to 
be  the  only  scriptural  one,  and  wliich  Delitzscli  has  implicitly 
adopted  (Gen.,  pp.  145,  199,  282,  401).  Hofmann  represents 
the  Cherubim  as  the  veliicles  of  the  presence  of  God  in  the 
world,  "  tlu-ough  whom  the  eternal  '  To  be'  of  God  adapts  itself 
to  the  world,  and  He  '  loho  in  Himself  Is'  becomes  present  in 
the  world,  yet  as  above  the  world,"  so  that  whenever  the 
Cherubim  appear,  "  the  world  has  its  beginning."  "  They  are 
beings  which  bear  the  same  relation  to  the  presence  and  mani- 
festation of  the  super-mundane  God  in  the  world  as  the  chariot 
does  to  him  who  sits  upon  it.  His  appearance  and  manifestation 
rested  not  on  the  soil,  but  freely  moved  about,  borne  up  by 
mo\dng  beings.  In  this  sense  we  read  that  Jehovah  walked 
(Gen.  iii.  8)  in  the  original  dwelling-place  of  man."  Prom  this 
it  Avould  follow  that  from  the  first,  and  even  before  the  Fall,  God 
manifested  Himself  to  Adam  only  by  means  of  the  Cherubic 
chariot.  After  the  Fall  this  appearance  becomes  "  terrific  to 
man  and  drives  him  from  that  place."  Still  the  Garden  of  Eden 
remained  "the  place  of  God,  and  the  beginning  of  the  world." 
Thence  God  reigned  over  the  world,  and  thither  did  man  turn 

f2 


84  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  22.) 

to  find  the  Lord.  Tliis  continued  up  to  the  period  of  judgment 
by  the  flood.  Then  the  cherub-chariot  mounted  from  earth  to 
heaven,  and  ever  since  heaven,  and  not  earth,  is  the  place  of 
God's  presence  in  the  world.  God  now  comes  down  when  He 
is  about  to  manifest  His  presence  upon  earth,  and  having  done 
so  He  again  returns  to  heaven. 

In  proof  that  at  the  time  of  the  flood  the  throne  of  Jehovah  was 
transferred  to  heaven,  Ps.  xxix.  10  is  quoted.  We  allow  that  the 
flood  spoken  of  in  that  passage  is  that  of  Noah.  StiU,  we  can- 
not agree  with  Delitzsch  that  any  such  inference  from  the  verse  is 
warranted.  We  find  no  mention  in  it  that  the  throne  of  God 
had  been  transported  from  earth  to  heaven.  Even  though,  with 
Hofmann,  we  would  render  the  passage :  "  Jehovah  seated 
Himself  for  the  flood  (to  send  the  judgment  of  the  flood)  and 
since  then  Jehovah  sitteth  as  king  for  ever" — this  translation,  so 
far  from  enabling  or  obliging  us  to  adopt  his  mode  of  interpre- 
tation, seems  not  to  afford  any  point  of  contact  for  it.  But  the 
parallelism  demands  that  we  should  render  the  ^  in  ^^^^2^  ^" 
the  same  manner  as  in  Q^'i^^,  i.  e.  as  bearing  reference  to  time. 

Hence  we  nmst  translate :  "As  Jehovah  was  enthroned  at  the 
flood,  60  is  Jehovah  enthroned  a  King  for  ever  ;"  i.  e. ,  as  Jehovah 
had  manifested  Himself  as  Judge  and  King  at  the  flood,  so  does 
He  still,  and  AviU  through  eternity,  continue  to  manifest  Himself 
in  the  same  capacity.  Nor  do  we  gather  from  Gen.  iii.  24  that 
the  record  "  from  the  first  represents  the  presence  and  appearance 
of  Jehovah  in  the  garden  of  Eden  only  in  connection  with  the 
Cherubim,"  or  that  the  walking  of  Jehovah  in  the  garden  must 
be  regarded  "  not  as  a  touching  of  the  ground,  but  as  free 
moving,  borne  up  by  moving  beings."  We  do  not  read  that 
God  had  looked  from  Paradise  upon  the  sacrifice  of  Abel,  nor 
do  we  anywhere  learn  that  man  tm-ned  toward  Paradise  in  order 
to  find  God.  It  is,  indeed,  true  that  when  Cain  became  a 
fugitive  he  said  "  from  Thy  face  shall  I  be  hid,"  and  that  the 
narrator  remarks :  "  And  Cain  went  forth  from  the  presence 
(Hebr.,  from  the  face)  of  Jehovah."  But  from  this  we  cannot 
infer  that  he/ore  the  flood  the  throne  of  God  had  been  on  earth, 
and  after  it  in  heaven,  as  after  the  flood,  also,  we  are  told  of 
Num'od  that  he  was  "  a  mighty  hunter  before  (in  the  face  of) 
the  Lord"  (Gen.  x.  9),  and  the  Psalmist  entreats :  "  Cast  me  not 
away  from  Thy  presence  (Heb.  from  Thy  face),"  Ps.  li.  H,  while 
the  expressions  nilT^  "'^DT  ^^^^  Ts'STV  "^iSD^TD  occur  in  innumer- 
able places.  No  doubt  the  smoke  of  Noah's  sacrifice  after  the 
flood  ascended  towards  heaven,  but  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  the 
same  had  been  the  case  with  the  sacrifice  of  Abel  before  the 
flood.  It  is  equally  undeniable  that  at  the  confounding  of 
language    Jehovah    ''came   down"    in  judgment   to  the    earth 


FALL  AND  FIRST  PROMISE  OF  REDEMPTION.     (§  22.)  85 

(Gen  xi.  5),  and  that,   four  hundred  years   afterwards,  after 
having  entered  into  covenant  with  Abraham  (Gen.  xvii.  22), 
He  "  went  up  again."     But,  although  in  the  one  case  we  do 
not  read  of  His  having   gone  up,    nor   in   the   other   of  His 
having  come  down,  it  would  manifestly  be  unwarrantable  to 
conclude  from  this  that  at  the  confounding  of  languages  Jehovah 
had  transferred  His  throne  again  to  the  earth,  and  continued  it 
there  till  after  He  had  entered  into  covenant  with  Abraham. 
We  account  for  the  express  mention  of  His  having  "  come  do\\Ta" 
as  intended  to  convey  a  contrast  to  the  blasphemovis  language  of 
those  who  built  the  tower  (Gen.  xi.  4),  and  tor  the  silence  about 
the  "  going  up,"  after  said  judgment,  on  the  ground  that  the 
latter  needed  no  express  mention.     But  this  very  circumstance 
must  convince  us  that  in  the  manifestations  of  God  on  the  earth 
there  may  have  been  a  "  coming  down'  and  "  going  up,"  without 
any  express  statement  to  that  effect  in  the  Biblical  record.     We 
also  hold  that  the  word  of  the  Lord  to  Cain  (Gen.  iv.  10)  :  "  the 
voice  of  thy  brother's  blood  crietli  imto  me  from  the  ground," 
must  convey  to  tlie  mind  of  every  unprejudiced  reader  that  it 
had  cried  toward  heaven.     Nor  can  we  help  thinking  that  the 
expression  in  Gen  vi.  12 :  "  And  God  looked  upon  the  earth," 
rather  implied  that  the  Lord  had  looked  down  from  heaven  than 
that  from  some  place  on  the  earth  He  had  looked  abroad  upon 
it.     Hence,  however  ingenious  in  its  conception  and  application 
the  idea  of  Hofmann  may  be,  it  does  not  bear  the  test  of  exami- 
nation.     Thus  much  of  truth  there   may  be  in  it,  that  the 
"walking"  of  the  Lord  had,  so  long  as  man  abode  in  Paradise, 
been  more  intimate  and  near  by  far  than  at  any  time  since  the 
Fall.     Only  redeemed  earth  and  a  renewed  Paradise  (Eev.  xxi., 
xxii.)  shall  again  witness  such  close  communion. 

We  have  to  confess  entire  ignorance  as  to  the  derivation  of 
the  term  Cherub.  Hofmann  has  declared  his  preference  for 
the  explanation  which  makes  2^"^3  merely  a  transposition  of 

;i*)3-^    =  chariot  ,  and  wliich  attaches  to  the  term  the  meaning 

of  that  word.  In  corroboration,  he  appeals  to  Ps.  civ.  3.  But 
we  cannot  agree  in  this  view,  not  merely  because  tliis  transposi- 
tion, of  which  there  is  no  other  example,  is  too  arbitrary  and 
curious,  but  chiefly  because  the  idea  of  a  chariot  as  attacliing  to 
the  Cherub,  is  not  characteristic,  and  attaching  to  it  under  all 
circumstances,  but  only  accidental,  and  occurring  under  certain 
given  circumstances.  It  is  well  l^nown  that  in  the  Cherubim  of 
the  tabernacle  and  of  the  temple,  as  well  as  in  those  of  the  New 
Testament  vision,  there  is  no  allusion  to  "  chariots."  As  little, 
perhaps  even  less,  can  we  adopt  the  derivation  suggested  by 
Delitzscli,  according  to  whom  the  verb  i^'l^ — which  nu  where 
occurs — is  referred  to  the  cognate  root  of  the  verbs  ^-^p,  "yy^.  and 


86  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  22.) 

supposed,  according  to  tlie  analogy  of  the  Sanscrit   grihh,  of  the 
Persian  giriften,  and  of  the  Gothic  gripan,  to  bear  the  meaning 
of  to  g7'ip,  to  seize,  to  hold.     Thus  the  word  Cherubim  is  inter- 
preted as  they  who  take  hold  of,  or  who  bear  the  throne  of  God. 
But  Scripture  nowhere  implies  that  the  Cherubim  seize,  or  hold, 
or  take  hold  of  the  Divine  Throne.     So  far  indeed  from  confirm- 
ing this  idea,  Ezekiel's  vision  implies  that  the  "  firmament''  of 
"  crystal"  on  which  the  throne  of  God  stands,  rests  only  on  the 
tips  of  the  outspread  wings  of  the  Cherubim.     Neither  can  the 
derivation  of  the  word  from  the  Syriac  ^^iSi,  which  is  represented 
as  equivalent  to  secare,  sculpere,  for  mare,  and  according  to  which 
^1-^2  means  forma,  imago,  an  artistic  formation  or  representa- 
tion (Keil,  Temple  of  Sol.,  107;  Hdvernick's  Ezek.,  p.  5)  com- 
mand our  assent,  if  it  were  only  on  the  ground,  that  it  rests  upon 
or  leads  to  the  erroneous  opinion  that  the  Cherubim  were  merely 
symbolical  formations  of  art  or  of  fancy.     Considering  the  idea 
attaching  to  the  Cherubim,  we  should  incline  to  the  derivation 
proposed  hj  Hyde  (Eel.  Vett.  Pers.,  p.  263),  who  traces  the  term 
to  ^T^p,  and  explains  it  as  equivalent  to  those  who  are  near  to 
God;  or  else  to  that  of  Maurer  (Comment,  on  Is.,  vi.  2),  who 
explains  ^1-^3  =  DID)  Arab.      g^,  nohilis  fuit,  and  hence  in- 
terprets Cherubim  as  nobiles  principes.      These  explanations 
would  also  tally  with  the  probable  derivation  of  the  term  Serafim 
(comp.  §  79, 1) ,  beings  of  kindred  nature  with  the  Cherubim.    But 
there  are  philological  objections  to  these  interpretations.     Per- 
haps the  view  most  deserving  of,  and  yet  receiving  the  least  atten- 
tion, is  that  which  results  from  a  comparison  of  Ezek.  i.  10  with 
X.  14  (in  which  latter  passage,  among  the  "four  faces,"  that  of 
a  Cherub  is  substituted  for  that  of  an  ox),  according  to  which 
the  word  ^"^nS  ^^^^1  originally  been  equivalent  to  ox  (arator, 
from  the  Syrian  root  JDiH  =  arare.)      But  this  derivation  also 
leaves  us  in  hopeless  difficulty. 

We  shall  not,  in  the  meantime,  enter  on  the  relation  between 
the  Jewish  view  of  the  Cherubim,  and  the  similar  or  kindred 
representations  of  other  nations.  Suffice  it  at  present  to  remark, 
that  however  striking  the  analogies  (especially  in  the  Assyrian 
sculptures,  which  are  now  being  rescued  from  the  obhvion  of 
thousands  of  years,  comp.  Vaux  Niniveh  and  Persepolis,  and  fig. 
10  and  11),  this  does  not  in  any  way  invahdate  either  the  origi- 
nahty  or  the  historical  character  of  the  narrative  in  Gen.  iii. 
These  similarities,  be  they  great  or  small,  may  aU  be  traced  back 
to  a  common  source,  in  the  oldest  traditions  of  mankind.  For 
the  literature  of  this  subject,  comp.  Winer's  Real  Lex.,  s.  h.  v. 

(4.)  We  close  with  a  few  general  remarks.  It  has  been 
thought  strange  that  the  canonical  writings  of  the  Old  Test, 
contain  so  few,  or,  as  some  have  affirmed  (for  ex.,  Aminon  Bibl. 


FALL  AND  FIRST  PROMISE  OF  REDEMPTION.     (§  22.)  87 

Theol.,  2d  ed.,  V,  281  ;  Boumgarten-Crusnis  Cliief  Points  in 
Bibl.  Theol.,  p.  349  ;  Lengerke  Kenaan,  i.,  p.  17,  etc.)  do  not 
contain  a7iy  allusions  to  the  history  of  the  creation  and  of  the 
Fall,  as  related  in  the  passage  under  consideration.  From  this 
it  has  been  inferred  that  the  "  myth"  of  Gen.  ii.  and  iii.  had  ori- 
ginated at  a  much  later  period,  or  had  been  imported  into 
Palestine.  Against  this  view,  comp.  Th.  Sherlock's  remarks  on 
the  views  which  the  Jews  had  entertained,  before  the  birth  of 
Christ,  about  the  circumstances  and  the  consequences  of  the 
Fall ;  0.  Krabbe,  Doctrine  of  Sin  and  of  Death,  ch.  vi.  ;  and 
Hofniann  Script.  Demonstr.,  i.  364,  et  seq.  It  is  indeed  re- 
markable that  special  references  to  these  events  occur  so  rarely. 
But  we  have  to  remember,  first,  that  express  references  to  former 
writings  were  much  more  rare  in  ancient  Oriental  Literature 
than  they  are  in  ours.  Even  the  New  Test,  contains  only 
very  few,  and,  comparatively  speaking,  equally  few  express  re- 
ferences to  Gen.  i. — iii.,  although  we  might  have  expected  to 
have  found  many  more.  Among  the  Old  Test,  references  to 
these  events,  we  may  mention  Ps.  viii.,  comp.  \\dth  Gen.  i.  28  ; 
— 2  Sam.  xxii.  16;  Ps.  xviii.  16,  ciii.'  14,  civ.  29,  30;  Job 
X.  8,  9,  xxxiii'  4 — 6  ;  Is.  ii.  22,  xxix.  16,  xlv.  9,  Ixiv.  8,  comp. 
with  Gen.  ii,  7  ; — Is.  Ixv.  25  ;  Micah  vii.  17,  comp.  with  Gen.  iii. 
14 ; — Ps.  cxlvi.  4,  civ.  30 ;  Eccl.  iii.  20,  xii.  7,  comp.  with  Gen. 
iii.  19.  Equally  clear  is  the  reference  of  Job  xxxi.  33,  and  of 
Hos.  vi.  7,  to  the  history  of  the  Fall.  Even  such  authorities  as 
nitzig,  Exeg.  Manual,  i.  95  ;  Umbreit,  Pract.  Comment,  on  the 
Prophets,  iv.  1,  p.  41 ;  comp.  also  Nitzscli,  System,  4th  ed.,  p. 
223,  have  of  late  declared  in  lYivour  of  this  interpretation,  for  the 
rendering  Qf^^  "  after  the  manner  of  men,"  is  manifestly  un- 
suitable. The  same  remark  applies  to  Is.  xliii.  27,  where  the 
expression,  "thy  first  father  hath  sinned,"  can,  as  the  best  com- 
mentators (for  ex.,  Hitzig,  Umbreif,  Knohel,  and  others)  have 
shown,  only  refer  to  Adam.  However,  Hofniann,  1.  c,  views 
the  latter  passage  as  an  allusion  to  Abraham.  Let  it  also  be 
borne  in  mind,  that  all  the  sacrificial  services  of  the  Old  Test, 
are  based  on  Gen.  iii.,  nor  can  we  be  mistaken  (comp.  also 
Krablie,  1-  c.  98,  et  seq.  ;  our  Contrib.  i.  98)  in  finding  in  the 
expression  jit^^'i  n'i?2'  which  so  frequently  occurs  in  the  Mosaic 
Criminal  Legislation,  a  reference  to  the  Ji^^^n  j-\*)^  of  the  first 

legislation  in  Gen.  ii.  17.  If  any  doubt  should  still  occur,  we 
submit  that  the  facts  recorded  in  these  chapters  are  chronicled 
with  a  child-like  simplicity,  and  that  hence  the  manifold  deep 
bearing  of  this  narrative  recpiired  a  lengthened  training  before 
it  could  be  perfectly  apprehended  in  the  consciousness  of  the  in- 
dividual.    So  rich  and  deep  is  always  tlie  commencement  of  a 


88  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  23.) 

development,  that  the  continuation  of  it  is  not  sufficient  fiilly  to 
bring  its  treasures  to  light.  It  is  only  at  its  completion  that  all 
which  had  lain  concealed  in  it  appears.  As  another  important 
consideration,  in  opposition  to  the  above  assertion,  we  may  call 
attention  to  the  gradually  increasing  expectancy  of  salvation. 
Thus,  while  Gren.  iii.  14,  15,  traces  salvation  to  the  medium  of 
mankind  generally,  Gen.  xii.  3  limits  it  to  the  seed  of  Abraham, 
ch.  xlix.  10  to  the  tribe  of  Judah,  and  2  Sam.  vii.  12 — 16  to  the 
family  of  David.  Here  the  promise  attains  its  narrowest  Kmits, 
which  it  henceforth  preserves  throughout  the  whole  Old  Testa- 
ment. 


THE  TWOFOLD  TENDENCY  MANIFEST  IN  THE  PRIMEVAL  RACE. 

(Comp.  Dettinger,  Eemarks  on  Gen.  iv.  1 — 6,  8 ;  in  the 
Tiibingen  Theol.  Journal  for  1835,  pt.  1  ;  Fr.  Botticher  de 
inferis  rebusque  post  mortem  futuris,  Dresd.  1845,  p.  121,  et 
seq.) 

§  23.  (Gen.  iv.) — The  two  first  sons  of  Adam  and  Eve  become 
immediately  the  starting-points  and  the  prototypes  of  the  two- 
fold tendency  apparent  in  man :  the  one  planted  and  nourished 
by  sin,  the  other  by  salvation.  These  two  tendencies  re-appear 
everywhere  in  the  history  of  mankind,  and  become  more  and 
more  distinct,  in  the  one  case  in  a  believing  surrender  to,  in  the 
other  in  a  determined  alienation  from,  God,  and  from  His  plan 
of  salvation.  Cain  (=  the  acquired)  is  the^rs^  fruit  of  Adam's 
marriage  (1.)  At  his  birth.  Eve  triumphantly  exclaims — "  I 
have  gotten  a  man  with  Jehovah,"  in  the  beHef  that  she  had  now 
got  one  who  would  victoriously  contend  against  the  seed  of  the 
serpent.  But  speedily  she  becomes  sensible  of  her  error,  and 
accordingly  calls  her  second  son  ^i^H'  ^^^'  ^^^^  premature  and 
impatient  hope  had  vanished  like  breath.  Both  sons  offe'^  sacri- 
fices (2.)  Abel  brings  the  firstlings  of  his  flock,  and  Cain  of  the 
fruits  of  the  ground.  The  Lord  graciously  had  respect  to  Abel's 
sacrifice,  but  not  to  that  of  Cain.  This  excites  the  envy  and  the 
wrath  of  the  latter,  and  he  slays  liis  brother.  Henceforth  Cain 
is  cursed  to  be  a  fugitive  and  a  vagabond  in  the  earth.  He 
dwells  in  the  land  of  Nod  {•^•^^  =  flight)  on  the  east  of  Eden, 
where  he  builds  for  his  son  Chanoch   (Enoch)  a  city  of  that 


TWOFOLD  TENDENCY  IN  THE  PRIMEVAL  RACE.  (§  23.)    89 

name  (3).  The  posterity  of  Cain  follow  in  the  course  of  estrange- 
ment from  God  on  which  their  ancestor  had  entered.  They  in- 
vent arts,  and  they  devise  the  pleasures  of  life ;  they  deify  them- 
selves and  their  ancestors  (4).  The  Cainite  Lamech  introduces 
polygamy,  and  boastingly  confides  in  liis  own  strength,  as  in  liis 
God.  His  son  Jahal  was  the  ancestor  of  the  nomadic  tribes 
which  dwell  in  tents.  t/aZ>a^-invented  stringed  and  wind  instru- 
ments, Tuhal-Cain  was  "  instructor  of  every  artificer  in  brass 
and  iron."  These  statements,  as  well  as  the  names  of  his  daugh- 
ter Naamah  (the  lovely),  and  of  his  wives  Adah  (ornament, 
beauty)  and  Zillah  (shade,  perhaps  so  called  from  her  rich 
tresses ;  according  to  Fiirst  =  Song)  furnish  abundant  indica- 
tions of  the  peculiar  development  in  the  family  of  Cain. 

(1.)  Before  marriage  could  take  place,  or  its  fruits  appear,  it 
was  necessary  for  man  to  pass  beyond  the  stage  of  mere  life,  and 
to  undergo  the  trial  of  his  freedom,  recorded  in  Gen.  iii.  For, 
as  a  thinking,  feehng  being,  possessed  of  freedom,  personality, 
and  self-consciousness,  man  was  not  to  be  induced  to  this  union 
merely  by  impidse  like  the  beasts,  and  without  being  conscious 
of  its  high  purpose.  Indeed,  this  the  highest  stage  in  the  mani- 
festation of  his  Kfe,  presupposed  liis  knowledge  of  good  and  evil. 
To  this  we  may  add  as  another  reason,  that  the  race  was  to  be 
one  organism,  both  in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  in  blessing  and  in  curse, 
for  its  destination  depends  on  tliis  unity.  Hence  the  unfolding 
from  original  unity  into  plurality  could  only  take  place  after  man 
had  made  choice  of  his  peculiar  direction. 

(2.)  Here,  at  the  thi-eshold  of  the  development  of  manldnd, 
we  come  upon  the  mystery  of  4000  years — the  institution  of 
SACRIFICES.  What  was  their  origin,  and  whence  the  strange 
accord  by  which  sacrifices  are  the  central  point  in  the  rehgion  of 
all  ancient  peoples  ?  Manifestly  the  BibKcal  record  does  not  give 
us  light  on  this  subject,  but  at  the  same  time  it  seems  to  imply 
that  God  had  given  instructions  concerning,  and  that  He  had 
instituted,  this  ordinance.  Many  theologians  have  thought  that 
the  statement  (Gen.  iii.  24)  that  the  "  Lord  God  made  coats  of 
skins  (to  our  first  parents)  and  clothed  them,"  refers  to  the  in- 
stitution of  sacrifices.  The  reason  why  the  Lord  had  respect  to 
the  one  and  not  to  the  other  sacrifice  must  chiefly  be  sought  in 
the  disposition  of  those  who  offered  it ;  Heb.  xi.  4 — "  By  faith 
Abel  offered  unto  God  a  more  excellent  sacrifice  than  Cain." 
However,  the  view  so  often  expressed  that  Abel's  bloody  sacrifice 
expressed  a  more  profound  religious  apprehension  than  that  of 


00  PREPARATOKY  HISTORY.    (§  23.) 

Cain,  wliich  was  "  without  shedding  of  blood,"  seems  to  agree 
with  the  general  bearing  of  the  text.  The  view  (that  man  had 
only  learned  to  oifer  bloody  sacrifices  after  they  had  become 
cruel),  founded  on  a  statement  of  Porphyry,  de  Abstin.  ii.  1, 
§  5,  according  to  whom  at  first  sacrifices  of  fruits  had  been 
brought,  shows  a  most  wretched  want  of  criticism,  assuming  the 
vague  talk  of  a  Pythagorean  as  sound  historical  testimony,  while 
it  sets  aside  all  real  historical  e\ddence  to  the  contrary.  Comp. 
3Ieiners  Grit.  Hist,  of  Eeligion,  ii.  3,  et  seq.  The  sacrifices  of 
Cain  and  of  Abel  are  Shelamim  (peace-offerings).  Their  rela- 
tion to  the  later  institutions  of  the  Mosaic  law  has  formed  sub- 
ject of  discussion  (comp.  Deyling  Observ.  ss.  ii.,  obs.  4;  Hei- 
degger i.,  Exerc.  18;  Reland  Awiic^x.  p.  195;  Jken  Diss.  ii.  5) 
which  has  led  to  no  definite  result. 

(3.)  In  the  circumstance  that  Cain  built  a  city  we  recognise 
the  same  tendency  and  the  same  felt  want  on  the  part  of  man 
alienated  from  God  wliich  afterwards  reached  its  climax  in  the 
rearing  of  the  Tower  of  Babel.  Nor  do  we  feel  any  difficulty 
about  the  inhabitants  of  that  city — especially  considering  that 
the  expression  is  chiefly  meant  to  convey  a  contrast  to  the  scat- 
tered tents  of  shepherds.  Centimes  may  have  passed  before  Cain 
commenced  to  build  tliis  city.  The  attempts  of  Bochart,  Huet, 
and  even  of  modern  wi-iters,  to  identify  the  name  of  the  land  and 
of  the  city  of  Cain,  are  equally  needless  and  useless.  Some 
particulars  connected  with  the  narrative  about  Cain  presuppose 
that  men  had  already  spread  over  the  face  of  the  globe  ;  a  view 
this  which  we  hold  to  be  quite  tenable.  According  to  hints 
gathered  fi-om  Gen.  iv.  25,  the  murder  of  Abel  must  have  taken 
place  immediately  before  the  birth  of  Seth,  or  130  years  after  the 
creation  of  man.  During  that  period  Adam  must  have  had  a 
large  number  of  descendants.  Some  have  felt  difficulties  in 
connection  with  the  evident  necessity  of  intermarriages  between 
the  nearest  relations,  as  implying  incest.  But  that  idea  cannot 
attach  to  such  connections.  In  incest  homogeneous  points  must 
meet.  But  tliis  could  only  take  place  after  manldnd,  which,  in 
our  first  parents,  were  as  yet  one  unseparated  whole,  had  de- 
veloped and  settled  into  individual  and  separate  famihes.  Comp. 
on  this  subject,  against  the  view  of  J.  D.  Michaelis,  an  article 
(by  Hengstenherg  f)  in  the  evangel.  Kirchenzeitung,  1840,  Nos. 
47—52,  58,  59,  and  Br.  Bauer,  Crit.  of  Eevel.  i.  192,  et  seq. 
We  shaU  return  to  this  subject  when  treating  of  the  Mosaic 
legislation. 

(4.)  Ph.  Bidtinann  (on  the  mytliic  period  from  Cain  to  the 
flood,  in  the  "  Mythologus,  Berhn  1828,"  p.  152— 179)— and 
before  liim  many  others  (as,  for  example,  G.  Vossius,  Bochart, 
Huetius,   and   others) — has   attempted  to  trace   a   connection 


TWOFOLD  TENDENCY  IN  THE  PRIMEVAL  RACE.  (§  23.)    01 

"between  the  names  of  the  descendants  of  Cain  and  those  of 
heathen  mythologies,  but  for  purposes  difierent  from  those  of  his 
predecessors.     Tubal-Cain  was  =  Vulcan,  Jabal  and  Jubal  = 
'Al3i\Lo<i  =  Apollo,  &c.     The  suggestion  by  the  same  author 
that  the  genealogy  of  the  fomily  of  Cain  was  originally  the  same 
as  that  of  the  family  of  Seth  (in  Gen.  v.),  has  gained  more 
general  support  than  the  other  hypothesis.     According  to  that 
view  ISfoah  was  the  son  of  Zillah  (Simla  =  Semele),  and  the 
i-ame  as  Bacchos  ;  Lamech  and  Chanoch  occur  in  both  genea- 
logies ;    Adam  was  =  Enosh,  Cain  =  Kenan,    Irad  =^  jered, 
IMechujael  =  Mahalaleel,   Methushael  =  Methushaelach.      This 
hypothesis  has  been  adopted  by  Ttich,  ad  h.  1.,  by  Eioald  (Hist, 
i.  313,  et  seq.,),  and  by  Lepsius  (Chronology  of  the  Eg}'pt.,  i. 
396,  et  seq.)  ;  it  has  been  controverted  by  Hdvernick  (Introd.  i. 
2,  p.  2G2)  and  by  Basm.  Bask,  (oldest  hebr.  Chronol.,  from  the 
Danish,  by  Mohnicke,  Leipz.  1836,  p.  37,  et  seq.)     Buttmann 
himself  allows  that  there  is  a  great  diiference  in  the  roots  and  in 
the  meaning  of  these  names.     Besides,  the  two  series  of  names 
are  diflerently  arranged,  while  some  names  are  wholly  omitted  ; 
a  circumstance  the  more  important  when  we  bear  in  mind  the 
respect  paid  to  such  data  in  ancient  times,  a  feeling  to  which  we 
owe  the  preservation  of  names  and  genealogies  during  the  lapse 
of  thousands  of  years.     Still,  the  identity  of  two  of  these  names, 
and  the  similarity  of  others,  is  remarkal)le.     Hdvernick,  1.  c, 
accounts  for  tliis  on  the  ground  "  of  the  paucity  of  names  in 
primeval  times  ;"  M.  Baumgarten  (Comment,  i.  1,  p.  93,  et  seq.) 
thinks  "  that,  by  adopting  the  names  of  the  family  of  Cain,  the 
descendants  of  Seth  had  intended  to  shew  that  they  had  taken 
the  place  of  the  first-born  but  degenerate  line  ;"  while  Delitzsch 
(Gen.,  p.  157)  infers  that  the  two  families  had  continued  inter- 
course with  each  other.     Dettinger,  1.  c.  p.  9,  et  seq.  very  aptly 
calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  text  fin-nishes  more  detailed 
particulars  about  Chanoch  and  Lamech,  whose  names  were  so 
similar,  in  order  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  their  being  iden- 
tified, and  to  shew  more  clearly  that  the  direction  in  which  the 
develoimient  of  these  two  lines  tended  was  opposite.     Indeed, 
without  doubt  this  is  the  reason  wliy  the  genealogy  of  Cain  is 
given.     On  tins  ground,  also,  it  closes  ^\dth  Lamech,  the  sixth 
from  Cain,  in  whom  the  ungodliness  of  a  family  which  only 
sought  after  the  things  of  this  world  reached  its  climax,  as  may 
be  gathered  from  his  polygamy,  from  his  godless  confidence  in, 
and  h}iun  to,  the  sword,  and  from  what  is  recorded  of  liis  sons, 
who  directed  their  energies  to  cidtivate  exclusively  the  worldly 
side  of  life  by  arts  and  industry.     His  family  foreshadowed  the 
later  stage  of  heathenism  in  its  twofold  aspect   (§  31.)     For 
further  particulars  we  refer  to  the  exposition  of  this  chapter  by 


92  PEEPAKATORY  HISTORY.    (§  24.) 

Delitzsch.  Ewald  constructs,  from  the  data  furnished  in  the 
genealogy  of  Cain,  quite  an  Olympiis,  with  gods,  heroes,  and 
demi-goddesses  ;  for  particulars  of  which  we  refer  the  curious 
reader  to  the  works  of  that  writer. 

§  24.  (Gen.  v.) — In  room  of  Abel,  who  had  been  slain,  Eve 
now  gets  Setli  as  compensation.  Nor  is  this  a  misnomer.  Seth 
is  the  ancestor  of  a  family,  wliich,  continuing  in  the  faith,  become 
heirs  of  the  promise,  and  whose  aims,  character,  and  tendency 
are  in  direct  contrast  to  those  of  Cain  (1.)  Even  during  the 
time  of  Enos  men  began  formally  to  serve  Jehovah,  in  opposition 
to  the  worship  of  self  and  of  ancestors,  which  had  at  the  same 
time  commenced  in  the  family  of  Cain.  Enocli  (the  dedicated), 
the  seventh  from  Adam,  walked  with  God,  and  was  in  consequence 
"taken  away"  (2.)  Lamech  (Lemech),  as  formerly  Eve,  hoped 
to  have  foimd  in  his  son  Noah  (rest) — (probably  as  being  the 
tenth  from  Adam,  with  whom  he  had  anticipated  this  era  would 
close) — one  to  comfort  him  concerning  his  work  and  toil,  on  the 
ground  which  Jehovah  had  cursed.  Adam  hved  till  Lamech 
had  attained  his  sixty-fifth  year  (3.) 

(1.)  The  separation  of  the  race  into  Sethites  and  Cainites  was 
not  stopped  by  the  circumstance  that,  according  to  Gen.  v.  4, 
Adam  begat  many  other  sons  and  daughters.  According  to  their 
respective  tendencies,  these  would  join  either  the  one  or  the  other 
party. 

(2.)  From  Heb.  xi.  5,  we  learn  that  "  by  faith  Enoch  was 
translated  that  he  shoidd  not  see  death" — a  view  wliich  certainly 
agrees  with  the  purport  of  the  original  account.  We  do  not, 
however,  see  that  the  explanation  offered  by  M.  Baumgarten  has 
either  proved  "  the  internal  necessity  of  tliis  fact,"  or  "  removed 
every  difficulty  connected  with  it."  That  writer  has  left  out  of 
consideration  the  principal  difficulty  which  arises  from  a  com- 
parison with  Kom.  v.  12—14,  and  with  1  Cor.  xv.  20 — 23.  If 
Enoch  was  removed  from  communion  with  God  here  to  com- 
munion with  Him  there,  the  latter  can,  according  to  1  Cor.  xv. 
20 — 23,  not  represent  the  state  of  perfect  glory.  He  was  trans- 
lated that  he  should  not  see  death,  but  he  cannot  have  been 
exempted,  any  more  than  those  to  whom  1  Cor.  xv.  50  refers, 
from  those  two  elements  connected  with  death,  according  to 
which  it  is  both  the  result  of  sin  and  the  conchtion  of  the  resur- 
rection. The  manner,  the  character,  and  the  place  of  the  trans- 
lation of  Enoch  must  all  be  fixed  within  these  limits.      Our 


TWOFOLD  TENDENCY  IN  THE  PRIMEVAL  RACE.    (§  24.)  93 

ignorance  of  the  circumstances  and  relations  after  death  prechides 
our  knowledge  of  further  details.  The  son  oi  Sirach  says  (xliv. 
16) — "  Enoch  was  translated,  being  an  example  of  repentance  to 
all  generations,"  wliile  the  pseudepigr.  hook  of  Enoch,  and  after 
it  Jude,  14,  15,  expressly  speak  of  liim  as  having,  during  his 
life-time,  preached  repentance  and  judgment.  Comp.  Cave,  in 
Fahricius  Codex  pseudepigr.,  i.  201 ;  Hoffmann,  the  book  of 
Enoch,  p.  69 ;  Fr.  v.  3Ieyer  in  the  "  Studien  and  Kritiken," 
1841,  p.  640,  et  seq.  On  Enoch,  comp.  generally^.  Ffeiffer 
decas  exercit.  ss.,  ex.  ii. 

(3.)  Adam  attained  the  age  of  930  years,  Methusalah  that  of 
969.  On  the  duration  of  life  among  the  patriarchs  before  the 
flood  comp.  J.  A.  Kanne,  bibl.  Researches  and  Expos.,  Erlang. 
1819,  i.,  et  seq. ;  Fr.  v.  ScJdegel,  Philos.  of  History,  Vienna  1829, 
i.,  60  et  seq.  The  attempts  of  others  {E.  G.  Hensler,  Remarks 
on  some  passages  in  the  Ps.  and  in  Gen.,  Hamb.  and  Kiel  1791, 
p.  287  et  seq.  ;  Hufeland,  Macrobiotic  i.,  ch.  5 ;  Easm.  Bask, 
oldest  chronol.,  Leipz.  1836),  to  bring  those  ages  within  our 
present  Umits  of  life  by  assuming  that  those  years  consisted  of 
only  1,  of  3,  or  of  6  months,  are  simply  absurd.  Equally  un- 
satisfactory is  the  view  of  H.  Leo  (Evang.  Kirch.  Zeit.  1842, 
No.  36),  who  suggests  that  the  names  of  individuals  represented 
entire  groups  of  generations.  Against  the  opinion  (of  Bertheau, 
Lepsius,  etc.)  that  these  numbers  indicated  cyclical  periods, 
such  as  we  find  in  the  mythic  dynasties  of  the  Eg}'ptians,  Chal- 
deans, &c.,  we  urge  the  decisive  fact  that  the  only  number  of 
astronomical  importance  is  that  in  connection  with  Enoch.  The 
statement  of  Tuck  that  these  numbers  were  meant  to  shew  that 
the  duration  of  human  life  was  continually  decreasing,  refutes 
itself,  as  no  such  decrease  appears  in  the  genealogies.  The 
duration  of  life  decreases,  indeed,  with  Mahalaleel  to  895  years, 
but  it  rises  again  with  Jared  to  the  figure  962,  which  had  never 
before  been  attained ;  with  Enoch  it  again  decreases  to  the  mini- 
mum of  365,  once  more  to  rise  with  Methusalah  to  the  maximum 
of  969  years,  &c.  The  question  as  to  the  possibility  of  a  life  of 
7,  8,  or  9  centuries  cannot  be  settled  by  the  rules  of  modern 
Physiology.  Any  assertion  of  impossibility  must  be  regarded 
either  as  a  piece  of  arrogance  or  as  a  proof  of  rashness.  Instances 
of  Hves  prolonged  for  150  or  even  200  years  occm*  almost  in 
our  own  days,  and  if  under  peculiarly  favourable  circumstances 
men  may  attain  an  age  three  times  that  of  ordinary  duration, 
why  should,  under  much  more  favourable  circumstances,  life  not 
have  attained  ten  times  its  present  average  length  ?  And  we  are 
warranted  in  inferring  that,  during  the  first  ages  of  our  species, 
conditions  had  taken  place  which  singularly  favoured  longevity, 
but  which  for  thousands  of  years  have  ceased.     Among  them 


94  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  24.) 

we  reckon  an  undiminished  youthful  vigour  in  the  men  of  the 
first  generations,  and  a  corresponding  deeper  energy  in  telluric 
and  natural  life  generally.  All  that  geology  discloses  about  the 
antediluvian  state  of  the  earth  proves  that  these  suppositions  are 
founded  on  fact.  Besides  these  we  might  urge,  in  support  of  the 
Biblical  statement,  other  reasons  derived  from  the  Divine  plan 
concerning  the  world  and  salvation. 

On  the  Chronological  Differences  between  the  Hebrew 
original,  the  Samaritan  version,  and  the  LXX.,  comp.  J.  D. 
Michaelis  de  clu-onol.  Mosis  ante  diluvium  (the  14th  in  the 
collect,  of  the  commentt.  soc.  Gott.  obi. J,  who  attaches  authority 
only  to  the  statements  of  the  Hebrew  text.  Comp.  also  the  re- 
marks of  bibl.  clu'onlog.  generally,  and  L.  Rehike,  contrib.  to 
the  elucidat  .of  the  0.  T.,  Miinster  1851,  p.  70  et  seq.  The  two 
other  recensions  have  arbitrarily  altered  the  text,  to  make  it 
agree  with  some  of  then-  own  suppositions.  Bockh  rightly  sug- 
gests (Manetlio  p.  86),  that  the  Alexandrians  had  made  the 
periods  longer  in  order  to  reconcile  the  chronology  of  the  Bible 
with  that  current  in  Egypt.  The  alterations  in  the  LXX.  would 
no  doubt  have  been  as  readily  discarded  as  those  in  the  Samaritan 
version,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  use  made  of  the  former  by 
New  Testament  wi-iters.  Js.  Vossius,  Joh.  v.  Milller,  and 
Seyffartli  have  followed  the  LXX.  According  to  the  original 
the  flood  had  taken  place  in  the  year  1656,  according  to  the  LXX. 
in  the  year  2242,  according  to  the  Samaritan  text  in  the  year 
1307  of  the  world.  At  present  it  is  pretty  generally  allowed 
that  only  the  statements  of  the  Hebrew  original  are  authentic. 
Of  course  this  statement  does  not  of  itself  imply  the  general  credi- 
bility of  these  data.  We  can  scarcely  wonder  that  Rationa- 
lists should,  in  consistency  with  their  principles,  deny  their 
accm-acy.  But  the  objections  of  students  of  Egj^tian  history 
would,  if  well  founded,  raise  more  grave  difficulties.  Bunsen 
maintains  that  the  chronology  of  Egyptian  history  can  be  satis- 
factorily traced  to  the  year  4000  before  Christ,  while  Lepsius  as 
confidently  asserts  that  the  Egyptian  king  Menes  commenced  his 
reign  in  the  year  3893  before  Christ.  But  even  scholars  who 
cannot  be  accused  of  entertaining  prejudices  in  favour  of  the 
Bible  have  admitted  that  the  correctness  of  this  chronology  has 
not  yet  been  proved.  We  may,  therefore,  in  the  mean  time, 
dismiss  this  objection.  The  same  remark  applies  still  more 
strongly  to  the  ingenious  hypothesis  of  Bertheau  (comp.  the 
Annual  Report  of  the  German  Orient.  Soc,  Leipz.  1846,  p.  40 — 
58),  who  supposes  that  all  the  three  recensions  are  clu'onological 
systems,  drawn  up  in  jsycles,  all  equally  trustworthy  or  non- 
trustworthy,  and  invented  in  order  to  fill  up  a  gap  in  historical 
tradition.     The  Hebrew  text — according  to  Bertheau — speaks  of 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  THE  FLOOD.  (§  25.) 


95 


1656  lunar  years  (=  1600  solar  years)  in  order  to  assign  a  dura- 
tion of  IGO  to  each  of  the  ten  generations.  Tt  is  scarcely  neces- 
sary to  comment  on  so  arbitrary  and  groundless  a  hypothesis. 

We  subjoin  a  table  of  the  three  recensions,     (a  refers  to  the 
Hehreiv  text,  b  to  the  Septuagint,  c  to  the  Samaritan  text.) 


o 

1- 

F 

"o 

a   . 

O  0) 

3 
« 

o 

Duration  of 

Life. 

A 

180 

800 

930 

A 

162 

800 

962 

Adam, 

B 

230 

700 

930 

Jared, 

B 

162 

800 

962 

C 

130 

8U0 

930 

c 

62 

785 

847 

A 

105 

807 

912 

A 

65 

300 

365 

Seth, 

B 

205 

707 

912 

Enoch, 

B 

165 

200 

365 

C 

105 

807 

912 

C 

65 

300 

365 

A 

90 

815 

905 

A 

187 

782 

969 

Eno3, 

B 

190 

715 

905 

Methcsalah, 

B 

187 

782 

969 

C 

90 

815 

905 

C 

67 

653 

720 

A 

70 

840 

910 

A 

182 

595 

777 

Cainan, 

B 

170 

740 

910 

Lamech, 

B 

188 

565 

753 

C 

70 

840 

910 

C 

53 

600 

653 

A 

65 

830 

895 

A 

500 

(950) 

Mahalaleel, 

B 

165 

730 

895 

Noah, 

B 

500 

(950) 

C 

65 

830 

895 

C 

500 

(950) 

THE  JUDGMENT  OF  THE  FLOOD. 

§  25.  (Gen.  vi.) — From  the  long  duration  of  life  the  race  in- 
creased very  rapidly  (1 ) .  But  their  alienation  from  God  increased 
in  the  same  ratio.  It  attained  its  cUmax  when  the  sons  of  God 
intermarried  with  the  daughters  of  men  (2),  and  the  offspring  of 
these  connections,  the  Nejilim,  committed  their  deeds  of  violence. 
This  corruption  spread  even  into  the  ranks  of  the  pious  descen- 
dants of  Seth,  until  only  one  man,  Noah  ("  a  preacher  of  right- 
eousness," 2  Pet.  ii.  5),  was  found  who  walked  with  God.  But 
the  Lord  allowed  other  120  years  to  pass  to  "  give  space  for  re- 
pentance" (3).  In  the  mean  time  Noah  had,  by  Divine  command, 
built  an  ark  of  three  stories,  300  cubits  long,  50  cubits  broad, 
and  30  cubits  high  (4).  But  despite  aU  warnings  men  continued 
in  their  course  of  godlcssness  (conip.  IMatth.  xxiv.  37 — 39). 


(1.)  Computations  of  the  number  of  men  in  existence  at  the 


96  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  25.) 

time  of  the  flood,  being  the  result  of  a  calculation  of  probabilities, 
become  sometimes  really  absurd.  Thus  S.  Baumgarten  (contrib. 
to  Univers.  Hist,  i.,  Ann.  175)  computes  their  number  at 
2,238,030,282,752,  Before  the  flood  the  human  race  apparently- 
inhabited  only  a  part  of  Asia. 

(2.)  The  following  three  are  the  leading  views  about  the  Bne 
Elohim  : — (1.)  They  are  represented  as  "  filii  magnatum  puellas 
plebejas  rapientes  ;"  (2.)  They  are  supposed  to  have  been  angels  ; 
or  (3.)  pious  persons  =  the  descendants  of  Seth,  while  the 
daughters  of  men  are  supposed  to  have  been  descendants  of  Cain. 
The  flrst-mentioned  is  the  view  of  the  Samaritan  version,  of 
Jonathan,  Onkelos,  Symmaclms,  Ahen-U-^ra,  Mashi,  Varenius, 
&c.,  but  is  at  present  generally  abandoned.  The  second  view  is 
that  most  generally  entertained  both  by  the  ancient  Synagogue 
and  Church.  Tt  was  possibly  shared  even  by  the  LXX. — at  least 
the  authority  of  the  Manuscripts  is  divided  between  the  readings 
viol  Tov  6eov  and  ayyeKoi  rov  6eov.  It  is,  however,  adopted 
(with  mythic  embellishments)  in  two  old  apocryphal  works :  the 
book  of  Enoch,  and  what  is  known  as  little  Genesis  (XeTrrr) 
ryev€cn<;,  of  which  Dillmann  has  given,  in  the  annual  siuvey  of 
Ewald,  a  German  translation  based  on  the  Ethiopic.)  It  is  also 
adopted  in  the  epistle  of  Jude  (w.  6,  7),  and  in  the  second 
epistle  of  Peter  (ii.  4,  5),  as  weU  as  by  Philo,  by  Josephus,  and 
by  most  of  the  Rabhins  (comp.  Eisenmenger's  Judaism  Un- 
masked, i.,  380),  and  by  the  most  ancient  of  the  fathers,  such  as 
Justin,  Clemens  Alex.,  Tertullian,  Cyprian,  Ambrosius,  and 
Lactantius.  Since  that  time  it  has,  however,  been  gradually 
discarded ;  Chrysostom,  Augustine,  and  Theodoret  contended 
vehemently  against  it,  Philastrius  directly  stigmatised  it  as 
heresy,  and  the  older  German  Theologians  turned  from  it  almost 
with  aversion.  It  was  also  opposed  in  the  Synagogue.  Kabbi 
Simon  ben  Jochai  excommunicated  all  who  advocated  this  view. 
In  our  own  days  all  the  Divines  who  have  held  that  the  book  of 
Genesis  was  mythical  have  adopted  this  view ;  but  others  also, 
and  among  them  a  large  number  of  interpreters  who  believed  in 
revelation,  have  pronounced  in  its  favour.  Among  them  we  may 
mention  Koppen  (The  Bible,  a  work  of  Divine  Wisdom,  i.,  104  ; 
Fr.  V.  Meyer  (Blatter  fiir  hoh.,  Wahrh.,  xi.  61  et  seq.) ; 
Twesten  (Dogmatics,  ii.  1,  p.  332)  ;  Nitzsch  (System,  p.  234  et 
seq.)  ;  Dreclider  (unity  of  Gen.  p.  91  et  seq.)  ;  Hofmann  (Predict, 
and  Fulfllhn.,  i.  85  seq.,  and  Script.  Demonstr.,  i.  374  seq.)  ; 
Baumgarten  (Comment,  on  the  Pentat.  ad  h.  1.)  ;  Delitzsch 
(Comm.  ad  h.  1.)  ;  Stier  (Ep.  of  Jude,  p.  42  seq.  ;  Dietlein 
(Comment,  on  2  Pet.,  p.  149  seq.)  ;  Huther  (Comment,  on 
the  ep.  of  Peter  and  of  Jude,  p.  204  seq.  341).^ 

1  Dr  Maitland,  in  his  Essay  (on  False  Worship,  London  1856),  advocates 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  THE  FLOOD     (§  25.)  97 

The  third  mode  of  interpretation  which  we  have  above  men- 
tioned is  advocated  by  Ghrysostom,  by  Gyrillus  Alex.,  by 
Theodoret  (who  supports  it  by  the  cm'ious  argimaent  that  Seth 
had,  on  account  of  his  i)iety,  obtained  the  cognomen  6e6<i,  and 
that  his  descendants  had  on  that  ground  been  called  viol  rov 
Oeov),  and  by  almost  all  the  later  orthodox  Theologians.  In 
our  own  days  it  has  been  zealously  advocated  by  Hengstenherg 
(Contrib.  ii.,  p.  328,  &c.)  ;  by  HdvernicM  (Introd.  i.,  p.  265)  ; 
by  Dettinger  (1.  c.  v.  §  23)  ;  by  Keil  (in  the  Luther.  Journal  for 
1851,  ii.,  p.  239),  and  by  many  others. 

Weighty  arguments  may  be  adduced  in  favour  of  both  the  last- 
mentioned  interpretations,  so  that  it  is  almost  difficult  to  decide  on 
their  respective  claims.  In  f^^^'Our  of  the  view  according  to  which 
the  designation  is  applied  to  the  descendants  of  Seth,  it  is  urged 
(1.)  that  the  context  is  in  favour  of  it.  Ch.  iv.  is  said  to  give 
an  account  of  the  family  of  Cain,  ch.  v.  of  that  of  Seth,  and  then 
ch.  vi.  of  the  commingling  of  these  two  lines,  and  the  corruption 
ensuing  from  it,  which  afterwards  led  to  the  judgment  of  the 
flood.  (2.)  The  expression  "  they  took  them  wives"  seems  to 
indicate  legitima  conjiigia.  (3.)  The  remark  which  follows  "of 
all  which  they  chose,"  is  supposed  to  ];)rove  that  their  sin  con- 
sisted not  in  taking  ivives,  but  in  choosing  them  according  to 
their  lusts — a  statement  which  could  only  apply  to  men,  not  to 
angels.  (4.)  In  ch.  iv.  the  beauty  of  the  female  members  of  the 
family  of  Cain  is  repeatedly  adverted  to.  However,  none  of 
these  arguments  is  decisive.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  decisive 
against  tliis  view  that  in  v.  2  the  Bne-Elohim  are  placed  in  con- 
trast to  the  Bnoth-Adam,  nor  can  the  latter  expression  be  limited 
so  as  to  refer  to  others  than  those  spoken  of  in  v,  1.  But  that 
verse  refers  without  doul>t  to  the  daughters  of  men  generally, 
without  distinction  of  families  or  of  religious  -sdews.  Besides  the 
general  meaning  of  the  term  Bne  Elohim,  as  ascertained  from 
other  passages,  and — unless  the  authority  of  the  epistles  of  Peter 
and  of  Jude  be  denied — the  testimony  of  the  New  Testament, 
are  in  favour  of  the  other  view.  Deep  dogmatic  prejudice  only 
could  have  induced  any  to  deny  that  certain  angels  are  there  re- 
presented as  having  fallen  in  consequence  of  their  intercourse 
"with  the  daughters  of  men.  Comp.  Dietlein,  Stier,  Huther, 
Hofmann,  11.  cc. 

For  the  interpretation  which  renders  the  Bne  Elohim  by  angels 
it  is  m-ged  : — (1.)  That  the  nsus  loquendi  is  in  its  fevour.  The 
term  Bne  Elohim  is  elscAvhere  always  applied  to  angels,  as  in 
Ps.  xxix.  1  ;  Ixxxix.  7  ;  Job  i.  6  ;  ii.  1  ;  xxxviii.  7 ;  Dan.  iii.  25. 

this  view,  carrying  it,  however,  into  fanciful  particulars,  and  deriving  the 
whole  ancient  mythologj'  from  this  union  of  angels  and  men. — Tue  Tr. 
VOL.  I.  G 


98  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  25.) 

The  contrary  reference  to  Dent.  xiv.  1,2;  xxxii,  5 ;  to  Ex.  ir. 
22,  comp.  with  Is.  i.  2 — and  even  to  Gen.  iv.  25,  is  not  to  the 
point,  as  the  expression  in  the  passage  imder  consideration  is  not 
Bne  Jehovah  but  Bne  Elohim — a  fact  the  more  striking  that  it 
occurs  in  a  Jehovistic  section.  Nor  is  there  any  force  in  the  ap- 
peal to  the  term  Elohim  in  Gren.  v,  1,  as  in  the  sense  there  im- 
plied the  descendants  of  Cain  are  also  Bne  Elohim.  Of  greater 
importance  is  the  expression  in  Ps.  Ixxiii.  15,  where,  in  the  ad- 
di-ess  to  Grod,  the  pious  are  designated  in  opposition  to  the  wicked 
as  "  the  generation  of  thy  children."  But  then  the  expression 
Bne  Elohim  is  throughout  the  Old  Testament  applied  to  angels, 
while  the  filial  relation  between  the  pious  and  God  is  conveyed 
by  the  term,  "  childi-en  of  Jehovah"  (Ex.  iv.  22 ;  Deut.  xiv.  1 ; 
xlii.  5 ;  Is.  i.  2).  Ps.  Ixxiii.  15  must,  therefore,  be  understood 
in  the  latter  sense.  The  objection  that  the  common  term 
"  3IaleacJi'  would  have  been  employed  if  angels  had  been  meant, 
may  be  removed  by  the  remark  that  Maleach  is  the  official 
designation  of  angels,  Bne  Elohim  their  nomen  naturae.  (2.)  It 
may  be  argued  that  if  the  Bne  Eloliim  had  referred  to  men,  the 
expression  "  daughters  of  men"  would  not  convey  any  idea  of 
contrast.  (3.)  The  statement  in  v,  4,  "  The  same  became  mighty 
men,  men  of  renown  which  were  of  old,"  manifestly  traces  the 
heathen  mythological  legends  about  the  sons  of  Gods  and  the 
heroes  to  this  event.  (4.)  2  Pet.  ii.  4  and  Jude  \'v^  6,  7,  are 
decidedly  in  favour  of  tliis  interpretation.  (5.)  A  consideration 
of  the  position  and  of  the  bearing  of  this  event  on  history  will 
lead  to  the  same  conviction.  We  call  attention  to  the  fact  that 
it  seemed  to  be  necessary  to  destroy  all  mankind,  and  to  com- 
mence as  it  were  a  new  race — a  circumstance  which  can  only  be 
accounted  for  on  the  view  wliich  we  have  advocated.  It  sm'ely 
cannot  have  been  an  arbitrary  arrangement  that,  when  a  new 
development  of  grace  commenced  with  Abraham,  the  rest  of 
mankind  were  allowed  to  continue,  wliile  in  this  case  it  seems  to 
have  been  necessary  that  they  should  be  destroyed.  But  in  de- 
claring ourselves  in  favour  of  this  view,  we  must  notice  the 
objections  urged  against  it.  Keil  (1.  c.)  lays  great  stress  on  the 
circumstance  that  the  passage  reads  Bne  haeloliim  (and  not  Bne 
Elohim,  without  the  article).  Haelohim,  he  argues,  is  "  the  true 
God,"  and  hence  Bne  haelohim  can  only  apply  to  holy  angels. 
But  we  cannot  see  the  force  of  this  argument.  Angels  are  called 
the  sons  of  God  on  account  of  their  heavenly  origin,  not  of  their 
holiness,  and  this  remains  the  same  after  as  before  their  fall. 
If  fallen  angels  may  be  called  Bne  Elohim  they  may  equally  bear 
tlie  title  of  Bne  haelohim,  for  that  God  from  whom  they  derive 
their  origin  is  the  true  God,  whether  they  continue  in  or  fall 
I'rom  their  original  hoHness.     Another  ;irgument,  dra^vn  from  v. 


THE  JUDG.MENT  OF  THE  FLOOD.    (§  25.)  99 

4,  has  more  weight.  It  is  inferred  from  it  that  Nejilim  had  not 
merely  been  the  oifspring  of  marriages  between  the  sons  of  God 
and  the  daughters  of  men,  but  also  of  other  and  not  unfrequent 
connections.  But — so  runs  the  inference — if  the  Bne  Elohim 
were  angels,  their  progeny  would  also  have  been  specifically  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  any  other  union.  This  reasoning,  however, 
rests  on  an  erroneous  interpretation  of  the  verse  quoted.  The 
latter  does  not  imply  that  Nefilim  had  been  the  offspring  of  any 
but  the  marriage  of  angels,  and  the  assumption  that  the  expres- 
sion "and  also  after  that"  bears  any  reference  to  Nefilim  in 
Palestine  at  the  time  of  Moses  is  perfectly  gTatuitous.  On  the 
contrary  the  verse  explicitly  says :  "  There  were  (sprung  up) 
Nejilim  in  the  earth  in  those  days,"  i.e.  during  the  120  years  of 
grace  wliich  the  Lord  granted  to  the  race  that  had  so  fearfully 
deteriorated  in  consequence  of  these  intermarriages.  Afterwards 
the  origin  of  these  Nefilim  is  traced  to  these  unions  between 
angels  and  men.  Ho/mann  (Script.  Demonstr.  i.,  375)  trans- 
lates the  expression  "  Again,  in  future  w^hen  they  shall  come  and 
when  they  shall  bear,"'  the  terms  "  the  same  are  the  mighty  men" 
being  then  a  kind  of  inference  and  the  whole  forming  a  predic- 
tion concerning  "  a  future  degeneracy  of  mankind  similar  to  that 
wliich  had  taken  place  before  the  flood,  in  consequence  of  wliich 
there  would  again  be  mighty  men  such  as  had  been  of  old,  men 
of  renown."  But  we  prefer  the  interpretation  of  Delifzsch,  who 
renders  the  verse  as  follows:  "Nefilim  arose  in  those  days  (of 
long-suffering),  and  also  after  that,  when  the  sons  of  God  joined 
themselves  (came)  to  the  daughters  of  men,  and  they  bore  to 
them — these  are  the  mighty  men,  &€.'  He  adds,  "  The  Divine 
warning  did  not  put  a  stop  to  the  connection  between  angels  and 
men,  which  continued  despite  the  threatening.  The  words 
'  after  that'  cannot  refer  to  a  period  posterior  to  the  flood,  as  the 
latter  was  intended  to  put  an  end  to  this  iniquity — which  was 
also  done,  especially  as  the  angels  who  had  carnally  lusted  were 
at  that  time  bound  with  chains  (Jude  v.  6  ;  2  Pet.  ii.  4).  Hence 
the  pretension  of  the  Anakim  to  have  sprung  from  these  Nefilim 
coifld  not  possibly  have  been  well-grounded,  although  their  claim 
was  admitted  by  some  of  their  cotemporaries  (Nimib.  xiii.  33)." 
This  interpretation  is,  on  the  whole,  satisfactory,  although  it  is 
not  perfectly  natural.  Hence  we  prefer  witli  Dettinger  to  refer 
the  q;jt  not  to  something  additional,  but  to  interpret  it  as  indi- 
cating an  em])hasis,  in  tlie  sense  of  "just"  or  "  since"  (conip.  the 
instances  in  Gesenii  tlies.  s.  h.  v.  No.  3,  and  especially  the  mean- 
ing of  the  word  in  the  second  clause  of  Gen.  xxix.  30).  The  verse 
would  then  be  rendered,  "  There  were  Nefilim  in  the  earth  in 
those  days,  and  that  just  after  the  sons  of  God  came  in  to 
the  daughters  of  men  and  they  bare  childi-en  to  them.     These 

g2 


lUO  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  25.) 

are  the  men  of  reno\^^l  which  were  of  old."  We  cannot  agree 
with  Hofmann  (Predict,  and  Fiilfilhiit.  i.  86),  in  deriving  the 
Avord  Q^^'sQ^  ft'oiii  ^D3  to  ^^  cast  out,  to  be  born  (Is.  xxvi.  19), 
in  which  case  it  would  "  indicate  those  who  were  cast  out  or  born 
in  a  way  different  from  that  in  which  the  race  is  commonly  pro- 
pagated." We  prefer  to  abide  by  the  old  derivation  of  the  word 
from  ^ri^  =  to  attack,  and  to  render  it  by  "  viole7it  men." 

Dogmatical  arguments  are  also  urged  against  our  view.  These 
have,  since  the  days  of  Chrysostom  and  of  Augustin,  had  so 
powerful  an  influence  on  orthodox  criticism,  that  commonly  the 
simple  and  natural  meaning  of  the  words  has  altogether  been  set 
aside.  The  chief  reasons  against  our  interpretation  have  always 
been  either  that  di'awn  from  Matth.  xxii.  30,  with  which  it  is 
supposed  to  be  incompatible,  or  the  notion  that  angels  were 
merely  spirits  without  any  corporeity.  To  the  first  argmnent  it 
may  be  rephed  that  the  statement  of  the  Lord  (that  the  angels 
of  God  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage)  only  impHed 
that  all  sexual  connection  is  entirely  contrary  to  the  nature  of 
holy  angels,  not  that  they  may  not  have  fallen  from  their 
original  hoHness  and  then  have  been  guilty  of  sinful  conduct 
contrary  to  their  natm'e.  If  we  bear  in  mind  that  there  is  some- 
thing mysterious  about  the  love  and  connection  of  the  sexes,  and 
that  in  all  who  are  not  wholly  sunken,  the  animal  aspect  of  it — 
which  sin  isolates — is  pervaded  by  a  more  elevated  and  noble 
principle ;  when  we  farther  think  of  its  importance  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world  and  of  salvation,  we  may  perhaps  not  regard  it 
as  quite  impossible  that  the  angels  should  have  not  only  desired  to 
look  into  tliis  mystery  of  human  nature,  but  also  to  share  in  it. 
Comp.  Tivesten  (Dogm.  ii.  332)  :  "  That  tliis  idea  may  not  be 
quite  so  absurd  as  it  may  appear  at  fii'st  sight,  could  scarcely 
have  been  more  brilliantly  shown  than  in  the  beautiful  poem  of 
Moore."  The  refutation  of  the  objection  dl•a\^^l  from  the  absolute 
incorporeity  of  angels  we  leave  to  those  who  can  reconcile  belief 
in  this  doctrine  with  a  correct  interpretation  of  Gen.  vi.  The 
view  of  Hofmann,  with  whom  Delitzsch  agi'ees  (p.  175),  is  un- 
satisfactory. He  tliinks  that  "  the  possibility  of  progeny  in  con- 
sequence of  the  influence  of  a  spiritual  nature  may  be  inferred 
from  the  fact  that  the  virgin  had  conceived  by  the  influence  of 
the  Holy  Spirit."  But  the  human  nature  of  the  second  Adam 
was  not  begotten  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  Like  that  of  the  first  Adam 
it  was  created.  The  eternal  Word  was  begotten  into  the  holy 
cliild  which  the  virgin  bore  in  consequence  of  the  creative  influ- 
ence of  the  Holy  Spirit.  But  no  such  creative  influence  coidd 
possil)ly  be  ascribed  to  any  created  spirit.  Besides,  spirit  could 
only  beget  spirit.  We  can  only  conceive  a  sexual  connection 
between  angels  and  daughters  of  men  if  the  idea  of  corporeity 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  THE  FLOOD.  (§  26.)         101 

attaches  to  the  former,  and  if  their  body  was  entirely  siil)ject  to  the 
spirit  wliich  inhabited  it,  so  as  entirely  to  adapt  itself  not  only 
to  the  peculiar  piu'poses  for  Avliich  that  spirit  was  created,  but  also 
to  lusts  which  in  themselves  are  contrary  to  its  original  natiu'e. 

The  question  whether  the  Bne  Elohim  of  Glen.  vi.  were  angels 
which  had  already  fallen  or  were  only  then  falling  cannot  be 
fully  decided  from  this  passage  alone.  The  most  ancient  testi- 
mony (that  of  the  book  Enoch,  of  little  Grcnesis,  and  of  the  oldest 
of  the  fathers)  is  in  favour  of  the  latter  view,  and  the  epistles  of 
Peter  and  of  Jude  seem  distinctly  to  bear  it  out. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  do  more  violence  to  historical  facts 
than  J.  P.  Lange  (pos.  Dogm.  569)  has  done.  His  statement 
that  "  the  more  celibacy  came  to  be  in  repute  in  the  Church  the 
more  did  the  fathers  entertain  this  h}^3othesis"  refutes  itself 
Tliis  "  hypothesis"  was  generally  entertained  (in  the  2d  and  3d 
centuries)  when  celibacy  was  not  yet,  or  at  least  only  began  to 
be  in  repute  wliile  it  was  attacked  and  declared  to  be  heresy  ever 
since  the  fourth  century,  when  so  much  value  was  attached  to 
celibacy. 

(3.)  Contrary  to  the  manifest  meaning  and  connection  of  the 
passage,  Josephus  (antiq.  i.  3,  2)  thinks  that  the  period  of  one 
HUNDRED  AND  TWENTY  YEARS  was  uot  a  spacc  given  for  repent- 
ance, but  a  shortening  of  the  duration  of  life  to  120  years — a 
view  wliich  has  recently  been  adopted  by  Tuch  p.  157,  by  Eioakl 
i.  324,  and  by  M.  Baumgarten  i.  1,  p.  102.  Against  it  comp. 
Hofmann  (Predict,  i.  86  ;  Script.  Demonstr.  i.  445),  and 
Delitzsch  (Gen.  177). 

(4.)  The  Ark  was  neither  intended  nor  suited  for  nautical 
purposes.  It  was  not  meant  for  navigation,  but  for  carrying 
freight,  for  wliich  it  was  much  more  suited  than  if  it  had  been 
constructed  accortling  to  the  principles  of  shipbuilding.  The 
vessel,  after  the  model  of  the  ark,  wdiich  P.  Jansen  built  at  Hoorn 
in  the  year  1609,  was  caj^able  of  carrying  one-third  more  freight 
than  ordinary  vessels  of  the  same  tonnage,  but  was  unfit  for 
naAdgation  (comp.  ./.  D.  Michaelis,  Orient.  Libr.  xviii.  26  et  seq.). 
N.  Tiele  shews  in  his  Comment,  that  the  ark  was  sufficiently 
large  to  receive  all  tliose  animals  which  were  to  be  preserved. 
Of  the  3,600,000  cubic  feet  which  it  contained  he  reserves  9-lOths 
for  the  victualling  department,  and  assigns  a  space  of  54  cubic 
feet  to  every  species  of  animals,  and  accordingly  finds  that  there 
was  room  for  nearly  7000  different  species.  Fishes,  worms,  and 
insects  were,  of  course,  not  received  into  the  ark.  Comp.  also 
Silberschlag,  Geogony  ii.,  63  et  seq. 

§  26.  (Gen.  vii.  viii.) — The  space  given  for  repentance  luid 
passed  ]»y  uniniprm-cd,  and  Noah  ont(>red  the  nrk  with  liis  wife, 


102  TREPAUATORY  HISTOilY.    (§  2G.) 

with  his  sons  Shem,  Ham,  and  Japheth,  and  with  their  wives. 
(Shem  ^=^  Name,  Glory  ;  Ham  or  rather  Cham  =  Heat ;  Japheth 
or  Jepheth  =  widely-diffused,  Enlargement).  Of  every  kind  of 
beasts  which  live  on  dry  groimd  he  took  one  pair  with  him  into 
the  ark  (and  of  clean  beasts,  i.e.  of  such  as  may  be  sacrificed,  by 
sevens),  and  of  all  food  that  is  eaten  ;  and  Jehovah  shut  him  in. 
Then  the  flood  began  on  the  17th  day  of  the  second  month,  in 
the  600th  year  of  Noah,  or  1G5G  after  the  creation  of  man.  The 
fountains  of  the  great  deep  were  broken  up,  the  rain  was  upon 
the  earth  forty  days  and  forty  nights,  the  waters  rose  15  cubits 
above  the  high  hiUs  (1),  and  all  flesh  that  moved  upon  the  earth 
died.  The  ark  rested  upon  the  mountains  of  Ararat.  Gradually 
the  waters  again  decreased,  and  on  the  27th  day  of  the  second 
month  of  the  following  year  (2)  Noah  went  forth  out  of  the  ark  (3.) 

(1.)  The  account  of  the  flood  bears  all  the  marks  of  being  a 
carefully  kept  diary.  Hence  we  infer  that  the  statement  of 
THE  DEPTH  OF  THE  WATERS  was  derived  from  actual  measure- 
ments made  on  board  the  ship  itself,  which  rested  upon  one  of 
the  tops  of  Ararat.  Similarly  we  conclude  that  the  expression  : 
"  aU  the  liigh  hills  that  were  imder  the  tvhole  heaven"  referred 
to  the  mountains  in  sight,  i.e.  to  the  higlilands  of  Armenia.  A 
volume  of  water  30  feet  above  the  top  of  Ararat  (which  accord- 
ing to  Parrot  is  16,254  feet  high),  and  which  prevailed  for 
almost  a  year,  must  have  found  its  equihbrium,  and  thus  covered 
the  face  of  the  whole  globe.  According  to  the  calculation  of 
Lilienthal  (v.  69)  the  quantity  of  water  necessary  to  cover  the 
eiu-face  of  the  earth  to  a  height  of  one  mile  above  the  level  of  the 
sea  is  only  equal  to  the  272d  part  of  the  volume  of  the  earth. 

(2.)  The  flood  prevailed  for  a  year  and  10  days.  But  although 
in  this  and  other  places  w^e  have  certain  definite  data,  the  com- 
putation of  the  year  of  the  flood  (comp.  the  clu'onologies  of 
Bengel,  Bennigsen,  Tiele,  and  others)  is  not  without  its  chfiicul- 
ties,  partly  from  the  inaccuracy  necessarily  connected  with  the 
calculation  of  a  year  computed  according  to  lunar  months,  and 
partly  from  the  uncertainty  attaching  to  the  question  whether  or 
not  the  40  days  of  rain  were  included  in  the  150  days  dming 
which  the  waters  increased. 

(3.)  We  have  now  to  advert  to  some  points  of  importance  in 
the  liistory  of  the  flood.  (1.)  The  gathering  of  the  different 
ANIMALS  to  be  taken  into  the  ark  does  not  iniply  very  great 
difficulties  when  we  remember  the  equableness  of  climate  before 
the  flood,  and  the  instinct  of  animals,  who  generally  gather 
oround  mnn  in  anticipation  of  any  great  natuial  catastrophe. 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  THE  FLOOD.  (§  26.)         103 

Besides,  it  is  not  necessary  to  understand  the  words  of  the  text 
as  conveyino;  that  literally  all  kinds  of  Ijeasts  had  been  taken  into 
the  ark.  We  know  that  some  species  have  died  out  with  the 
flood.  The  collection  of  food  became  more  easy,  as  the  event 
took  place  in  autumn  (in  the  second  month  of  the  year,  which 
always  commenced  in  autiunn).  It  is  more  difficidt  to  explain 
how  the  animals  spread  after  the  flood.  Pricliard  (in  his 
Natural  History  of  Man)  proposes  one  of  two  solutions  of  this 
question.  He  sug;gests  that  either  the  flood  had  only  covered  and 
laid  waste  that  portion  of  the  earth  which  was  inhabited  by  man, 
or  that  a  partial  creation  of  animals  had  again  taken  place  after 
the  flood.  In  favour  of  the  latter  hypothesis  he  mentions  that 
certain  strange  and  abnormal  organisms  are  found  in  Australia 
(New  HoUand).  Pricliard  inclines  to  the  latter  view,  and  in 
its  favour  adduces  as  an  argument  from  analogy  that  fresh 
creations  marked  every  new  geological  period  of  the  earth.  The 
diflicLflty  miglit  also  be  removed  by  supposing  that  the  various 
continents  had  formerly  been  connected  together — a  view  borne 
out  by  geographical  considerations,  and  supported  by  the  legends 
of  other  nations  (comp.  also  Gen.  x.  25) ,  especially  by  that  con- 
cerning Atlantis.  (2.)  On  the  legends  and  accounts  of  the 
flood  current  among  other  nations  comp.,  besides  the  authori- 
ties mentioned  in  §  20,  5,  also  L.  v.  Stolherg  in  app.  ii.  to  vol.  i. 
of  his  history;  Buttmann  Mythologus  i.,  180  et  seq.  ;  v.  Bohlen, 
Tuch,  and  DelitzscU  in  their  respective  Comment. ,  and  Paravey 
documens  sur  le  deluge  de  Noe,  Par.  1838.  On  the  Indian 
tradition  comp.  Fr.  Bo}yp,  The  flood  with  other  three  of  the  most 
important  episodes  of  the  Maha — Bharata.  Transl.  from  the  orig. 
Berhn  1829.  The  popular  accoimts  current  both  in  the  old  and  in 
the  new  world  agTee  in  part  with  those  of  the  Bible  in  so  striking  a 
manner  that  we  can  scarcely  err  in  supposing  that  the  former 
were  derived  froyii — or  at  least  modified  by  the  latter.  Comp. 
the  remarks  of  Uengstenherg  in  Egypt  and  the  books  of  Moses, 
pp.  242,  274.  An  impartial  critical  enquiry  into  the  whole 
subject  might  be  of  importance.  But  however  strictly  car- 
ried on,  suflicient  would  be  left  to  warrant  the  remarks  with 
which  Delitzscli  concludes  his  sm-vey  of  tliis  tradition  :  "  A  survey 
of  all  these  traditions  carries  to  our  mind  the  conviction  tliat  the 
flood  was  a  historical  event,  which  had  struck  deep  root  in  the 
memory  of  nations.  The  recollection  of  it  extended  from  Armenia 
to  Britain,  and  from  China  across  Eastern  Asia  to  America.  The 
biblical  account  of  this  event  is  equally  free  from  all  mj-tliological 
and  merely  national  elements,  and  presents  the  only  faithful  and 
purely  historical  representation  of  a  tradition  which  had  spread 
(H'^er  all  the  nations  of  the  world." 

On  the' geological  questions  involved  comp.,  besides  the 


104  PKEPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  27.) 

works  mentioned  in  §  20,  Bukland  reliquiae  diluvianae,  Lond. 
1823,  K.  V.  Baumer  Manual  of  Univers.  Geogr.,  2d  ed.,  Leipz. 
1838,  p.  395  et  seq. ;  Bud.  Wagner,  Natural  Hist,  of  Man, 
Kempten  1838,  vol.  ii. ;  G.  H.  v.  ScJmbert,  Kosmos.  Erlg.  1852, 
p.  (J59  et  seq. ;  A.  Wagner,  Hist,  of  the  Primeval  World,  pp.  215, 
526  et  seq. ;  A.  Ehrard,  in  the  Journal,  "  The  future  of  the 
Church"  (3d  year),  p.  357  et  seq.  ;  Fr.  Klar,  Original  state  of 
the  earth,  Stuttg.  1833. 

I 

NOAH  AJSTD  HIS  SONS. 

§  27.  (Gen.  ix.  17.) — The  development  which  had  preceded  the 
flood  had  not  attained  its  goal,  viz.,  to  exliibit  salvation  by  the 
seed  of  the  woman.  If  this  purpose  was  not  to  he  given  up,  the 
former  development  had  to  be  broken  off  by  a  universal  judgment 
and  a  new  development  to  be  commenced.  The  latter  begins 
with  Noah  as  the  former  commenced  with  Adam.  On  the  part 
of  man  its  starting-point  is  that  emphatic  confession  of  his  sin- 
fulness and  hope  of  salvation,  which  finds  in  sacrifice  an  appro- 
priate expression.  On  the  part  of  God  we  have  a  gracious 
acceptance  of  the  sacrifice  and  the  promise :  "I  will  not  again 
curse  the  ground  any  more  for  man's  sake,  for  the  imagination  of 
man's  heart  is  evil  from  his  youth.  .  .  .  While  the  earth 
remaineth  seed  time  and  harvest,  and  cold  and  heat,  and  summer 
and  winter,  and  day  and  night  shall  not  cease."  The  result  is  a 
new  covenant  between  God  and  the  new  race  (1),  in  virtue  of 
which  He  again  bestows  on  man  dominion  over  nature  and  the 
blessing  of  being  fruitful,  and  gives  them  a  preliminary  law  (2) 
to  be  their  first  (elementary)  schoolmaster  (Gal.  iii.  24).  The 
rainhoiv  is  to  serve  as  the  handwriting  of  the  Lord,  and  to  bear 
witness  of  this  solemn  transaction  both  in  the  sight  of  Noah  and 
of  all  succeeding  generations  (3) — as  it  were  a  writing  in  sym- 
pathetic ink  which  always  becomes  legible  when  the  dark  storms 
wliich  recall  a  former  judgment  give  place  to  the  glowing  rays  of 
the  sun,  wliich  remind  of  the  grace  dispensed  since  that  period. 
It  is  the  characteristic  of  this  covenant  that  tlu-ough  the  forhear- 
ance  of  God.  sin  is  now  to  be  passed  over  until  the  fulness  of 
time  (4.) 

( 1 .)  But  even  the  generation  which  perished  in  tlie  flood  is  not 


NOAH  AND  HIS  SONS.    (§  27.)  105 

absolutely  and  entirely  shut  out  from  the  blessings  of  this  cove- 
nant (comp.  1  Pet.  iii.  19,  20),  inasmuch  as  salvation  was  not 
only  to  spread  but  also  to  extend  into  the  past  and  the  future. 
Delitzsch  (p.  180  et  seq.)  aptly  remarks  about  the  bearing  of  the 
flood  on  the  history  of  salvation :  "  It  is  a  universal  judgment 
and  forms  a  period  in  history,  so  extensive  and  well-marked,  so 
powerful  and  universal  as  only  to  be  placed  by  the  side  of  the 
final  judgment,  which  constitutes  the  outmost  boundary-line  of 
all  futm-e  Mstory.  But  tliis  Judicial  Act  is  at  the  same  time  also 
an  act  of  salvation,  the  flood  is  also  a  flood  of  grace,  and  in  this 
respect  a  type  of  bajotism  (1  Pet.  iii.  21).  This  destruction  has 
preservation,  tliis  drowning  purification,  this  death  of  the  race 
a  new  birth  for  its  aim  ;  the  old  and  corrupt  world  is  buried  in 
the  flood  that  from  this  grave  it  may  emerge  a  new  world.  Then 
Ararat  points  to  Sinai:  the  Elohim-covenant  into  which  God 
enters  Avith  the  holy  seed  which  He  had  preserved  and  with  all 
natm-e  points  to  the  covenant  of  Jeliovah ;  the  few  and  brief 
precepts  given  to  the  decendants  of  Noah  are  the  coimuencement 
of  a  positive  Thorah,  and  in  their  contents  and  purpose  the  basis 
and  the  commencement  of  the  law  given  from  Sinai." 

(2.)  From  this  preliminary  legislation  the  SynagogTie  has  de- 
rived the  seven  Noacliic  ordinances,  which  were  held  to  be  bind- 
ing on  all  heathen  proselytes  (of  the  gate).  These  are  (according 
to  Buxtorf  lex.  talm.  s.  voce  -^3,  p.  407  et  seq.),  (1.)  prohibition 
of  Idolatry,  (2.)  of  Blasphemy,  (3.)  of  Murder,  (4.)  of  Incest, 
(5.)  of  robbery  and  theft,  (6.)  of  eating  blood  and  strangled 
animals,  (7.)  injunction  of  obedience  to  magistrates. 

(3.)  The  impression  conveyed  by  the  text  is  that  the  rainbow 
appeared  then  for  the  first  time  in  the  firmament.  Some  have 
inferred,  among  other  passages,  from  Gen.  ii.  5,  that  rain  had  not 
fallen  before  the  flood.  De  Luc  and  Sclmhcrt  have,  on  grounds 
drawn  from  natural  pliilosophy,  maintained  the  probability  of 
tliis  supposition.    Comp.  also  Hofmann  Script.  Demonstr.  i. ,  247. 

(4.)  The  Lord  admits  the  fact  of  universal  sinfulness  as  some- 
thing actually  existing — it  forms  an  element  in  the  economy  of 
His  government  and  in  part  determines  its  direction  (comp.  the 
significant  word  "for"  in  the  promise  Gen.  viii.  21).  The  com- 
passion of  the  Lord,  who,  until  all  possibility  of  his  salvation  has 
passed  away,  regards  and  pities  the  sinner  as  one  ivretclied  and 
miserable,  and  His  long-suffering  which  bears  with  the  sinner 
and  spares  him  so  long  as  his  return  is  possible,  retard  the  second 
and  final  U7iivcrsal  judgment  of  Divine  Holiness — which  must 
view  and  punish  this  sinfulness  as  guilt — until  His  grace  shall 
have  accomplished  all  that  it  had  afore  devised  and  determined 
for  the  salvation  of  sinful  man.  Comp.  also  Hofmann  Script. 
Demonstr.  i.,  448  et  seq. 


lOG  TREPARATOKT  HISTORY.    (§  28.) 

§  28.  (Gen.  ix.  IS  et  seq.) — Noah  became  an  husbandman, 
and  planted  a  vineyard.  And  when  he  drank  of  the  wine  he  was 
drunken,  and  lay  uncovered  in  his  tent.  Ham,  his  youngest  son, 
mocked  him,  but  Sliem  and  Japheth  covered  the  nakedness  of 
their  father,  their  faces  being  averted  from  liim.  In  this  appa- 
rently insignificant  act — the  first  on  the  part  of  Noah's  sons  in 
the  new  development — their  hidden  character  and  tendency 
became  manifest.  These  traits  could  only  develope  in  their  race 
as  the  peculiarities  of  character  descended  in  their  generations. 
When  Noah  awoke  and  knew  what  had  been  done  he  predicted, 
in  the  language  of  prophetic  blessing  and  curse,  the  fate  of  the 
nations  Avhich  would  descend  from  his  sons : 
(v.  25.)  "  Cm'sed  be  Canaan ! 

A  servant  of  servants  be  he  to  his  brethren  ! 
(v.  26.)  Blessed  be  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Shem, 

And  Canaan  shall  be  his  servant ! 
(v.  27.)  God  enlarge  Japheth  ! 

May  he  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem, 
And  Canaan  shall  be  his  servant !" 

(1.)  Clericus  understood  the  blessing  and  the  curse  of 
Noah  to  refer  to  the  subjugation  of  Canaan  by  the  Greeks  and 
Romans ;  von  Bohlen  considers  it  as  a  prediction  post  eventum 
referring  to  the  passage  of  the  Scythians  through  Asia  at  the 
time  of  Josiah  (according  to  Herod.),  and  Movers  (Bonn  Jouru. 
for  Philos.  and  Cath.  Theol.  Fasc.  18,  p.  97  et  seq.)  applies  it  to 
the  subjugation  of  Canaan  by  the  Hebrews,  and  to  the  cotem- 
porary  subjection  and  expulsion  of  the  Phenicians  from  their 
colonies  by  the  Greeks  who  took  their  place.  According  to  tliis 
writer  this  blessing  could  only  have  been  uttered  or  wi'itten  down 
at  that  period.  Tuch,  viewing  it  from  his  peculiar  stand-point, 
aptly  remarks  (p.  193)  :  "  It  cannot  possibly  be  intended  to  convey 
that  conquerors  descending  from  Japheth  would  take  possession 
of  the  pro\dnces  held  by  the  descendants  of  Shem.  The  state- 
'inent  refers  rather  to  the  co-operation  of  these  tioo  brothers,  who 
are  influenced  by  similar  pio^is  considerations,  and  to  point  out 
the  ideal  union  in  luhich  as  the  ancestors  so  their  descendants 
also  shall  combine  for  higher  23U7poses.  The  idea,  which  is  soon 
afterwards  more  distinctly  expressed,  that  the  salvation  of  man 
is  to  flow  from  Shem  (Gen.  xii.  3)  appears  here  for  the  fii'st  time, 
and  in  the  most  general  outlines."  Viewed  along  with  the  con- 
text the  expression  can  certainly  not  imply  that  Shem  was  placed 


NOAH  AND  HIS  SONS.    (§  2<S.)  107 

at  disadvantage.     Noah  intends  to  ])less  Shem,  not  to  curse 
him.     For  farther  particulars  we  refer  to  Hengstenberg's  Christ ol. 
i.,  p.  47,  &c. ;  Hofmanns  Predict.,  89  seq. ;  Havemick's  TheoL 
of  the  Old  Test.,  p.  120  et  seq.  ;  Baumgarten  and  Delitzsch  ad 
h.  1.      Hengstenberg  renders  it :  "  Japheth  shall  dwell  in  the 
(spiritual)  tents  of  Shcni,"  i.e.  he  shall  be  received  into  tlie  feUow- 
ship  of  that  salvation  which  is  to  proceed  from  the  race  of  Shem. 
Hofmann  (Script.  Ueinonstr.  i.,  161)  and  Baumgarten  decide 
in   favour   of  an   interpretation   less   suitable.      They  render : 
"  Elohim  shall  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem,"  i.e.  as  Onkclos  had 
already  explained  it:  May  the  Shechina  of  God  dwell  in  the 
tents  of  Shem.     Delitzsch  has  (p.  210)  well  shewTi  that  the  sub- 
ject in  the  second  clause  of  v.  27  can  only  be  Japheth.     He 
observes  :  Even  the  expression,  "  Blessed  he  Jehovah,  the  God  of 
Shem,"  implies  that  God's  gracious  presence  was  to  be  with  Shem. 
But  that  Japheth  is  the  subject  of  the  clause  in  question  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  that  v.  27  treats  of  Japheth,  as  vv.  25  and 
26  had  respectively  treated  of  Canaan  and  Sbem.     Besides,  the 
short  and  enigmatic  exclamation:  '' May  Elohim  enlarge  Jap- 
heth," is  in  favour  of  the  supposition  that  the  following  clause  is 
supplementary  to  it ;  the  Grod  of  Shem  is  designated  as  Jehovah 
in  contradistinction  to  Elohim,  the  Grod  of  Japheth ;  the  term 
"  enlarge"  indicates  local  extension  ;  and,  lastly,  the  childlike  and 
delicate  action  which  Shem  and  Japheth  had  performed  in  con- 
cert may  be  expected  to  point  to  such  a  final  blessing  as  would 
involve  a  mutual  relationship  of  concord  between  these  two  sons 
of  blessing.     Comp.  Ps.  cxxxiii.  1.     At  any  rate  the  prediction 
of  Noah  connects  itself  with  the  promise  of  salvation  in  Gen.  iii. 
15,  adapts  it  to  the  new  circumstances,  and  thus  further  deve- 
iopes  it.     Jehovah,  the  God  of  salvation,  who  had  decreed  and 
who  executes  the  council  of  salvation  (comp.  §  57,  2)  is  the  God 
of  Shem  ;  Shem  is  the  chosen  one  of  Jehovah  :  the  promised  sal- 
vation of  man  is  to  come  not  from  the  race  of  Japheth,  nor  from 
that  of  Ham,  but  from  the  tents  of  Shem.     The  judgment  of  the 
flood  had  destroyed  sinners,  but  not  sin.     Sin  agahi  makes  its 
appearance  in  Ham,  as  formerly  in  Cain  ;  and  the  frwofold  ten- 
dency which  in  the  primeval  race  had  been  represented  by  the 
descendants  of  Setli  and  of  Cain  (§  23)  is  now  reproduced  in  the 
races  of  Shem  and  Ham.     The  descendants  of  Japheth  occupy 
an  intermediate  position.     With  reference  to  Ham,  but  not  to 
Jehovah,  they  stand  in  the  same  relation  as  the  descendants  of 
Shem.     Jehovah  is  not  properly  the  God  of  Japheth,  but  Elohim 
}.)repares  for  Jai)heth  a  way  to  the  tents  of  Shem,  where  he  is  to 
find  both  Jehovah  and  His  salvation.     His  participation  in  sal- 
vation is  brought  aljout  through  Shem. 

The  enquiry  why  the  cm'se  was  pronounced  against  Canaan, 


108  PREPAHATOIIY  HISTORY.    (§  29.) 

and  not  against  Ham  who  had  transgressed,  is  not  without  its 
difficulties.  Hofmann  tliinks  that  the  sorrow  which  Ham,  the 
youngest  son  of  Noah,  had  occasioned  to  his  father  was  to  he 
requited  by  similar  sorrow  occasioned  by  Canaan,  whom  he  sup- 
poses to  have  been  the  youngest  son  of  Ham.  But  Gen.  x.  6  can 
scarcely  be  held  as  bearing  out  this  supposition.  The  table  of 
nations  in  that  chapter  is  manifestly  arranged  on  a  principle  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  comparative  seniority.  The  difficulty  would 
be  removed  if  we  were  warranted  in  assuming  that  Canaan  was 
at  that  time  the  only  son  of  Ham.  Besides,  Canaan  is  no  doubt 
singled  out  because  of  the  special  relation  in  which  he  stood  to 
Israel.  Hence,  what  is  said  of  Ham's  son,  as  such,  apphes  equally 
to  all  his  sons.  Comp.  also  Drechsler  1.  c.  pp.  114, 115.  From 
the  fact  that  dehverance  from  the  curse  of  bondage  and  partici- 
pation in  the  salvation  of  Shem  are  not  2^Tomised  to  Ham,  it  may 
not  be  inferred  that  such  wiU  never  take  place.  On  this  occasion 
Ham  is  only  to  be  cursed  and  not  to  be  blessed.  The  blessing 
which,  proceeding  from  the  tents  of  Shem,  was  designed  to  extend 
to  the  later  descendants  of  Ham  was  on.  this  occasion  to  be  still 
withheld  from  him.  In  his  peculiar  state  at  the  time.  Ham  was 
not  capable  of  receiving,  nor  was  Noah,  indignant  against  his  son, 
capable  of  prophetically  apprehending  or  apportioning  such  a 
blessing.     Comp.  Ps.  Lx\dii.  32. 


THE  CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES  AND  THE  DISPERSION  OF  NATIONS. 

§  29.  (Gren.  x.  xi.) — From  the  Highlands  of  Armenia  (1) 
the  descendants  of  Noah  first  journeyed  to  the  plain  of  the  land 
of  Shinar,  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris.  In  the  pre- 
sentiment that  their  dispersion  would  soon  become  necessary, 
they  are  anxious  to  fix  upon  a  central  point  of  union  ;  with  a 
presumption  like  that  of  the  Titans,  they  attempt  to  reach  unto 
heaven,  and  thus,  by  a  combination  of  all  the  forces  of  man,  to 
oppose  Him  who  dwelleth  in  heaven  (2.)  But  Jehovah  descends, 
and  rends  the  only  remaining  bond  of  unity,  that  of  language, 
which  was  the  first  and  the  most  necessary  condition  of  common 
action  (3.)  God  breaks  up  their  sinful  union,  and  scatters  them 
abroad,  in  order  afterwards  again  to  combine  them  into  a  true 
union.  Henceforth  every  nation  is  to  pm-sue  its  own  course 
(Acts  xiv.  16)  tiU  they  at  last  again  meet  in  the  tents  of  Shem. 
Thus  tliis  course  of  development  also  has  not  led  to  the  goal ;  it 


CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES  AND  DISPERSION  OF  NATIONS.    (§  29.)  109 

also  must  be  broken  off  and  another  commenced.  The  period 
of  this  catastrophe  is  not  definitely  fixed  (4.)  The  table  of 
nations  (in  Gen.  x.)  (5),  constructed  on  the  twofold  principle 
of  descent  and  of  geogi*aphical  settlement  (6) ,  exliibits  the  dis- 
persion, of  which  the  Divine  interposition  was  the  occasion. 

(1.)  Raumer  (Palest.  Ap]).  v.  p.  447,  et  seq.),  and  after  him 
more  fully  Bud.  Wagner  (JSTat.  Hist,  of  Man,  ii.  256,  et  seq.), 
have  well  shown  the  importance  of  Mount  Ararat,  not  only 
geographically,  from  its  central  position,  but  also  in  respect  of 
civil  and  natural  history,  as  being  the  central  and  starting  point 
of  civiHsation,  of  languages,  of  the  various  races  of  men,  and  even 
of  domestic  animals,  and  of  all  plants  that  are  cultivated.  In 
opposition  to  Bredoiv  (Kesearches  into  Ancient  Hist.,  p.  130,  et 
seq.),  who  identifies  the  land  of  Shinar  with  the  neighbourhood 
of  Babylon,  P.  Schley er  (Reply  to  Obj.  against  the  Predict,  of 
the  0.  Test.,  Friburg,  1839,  §  48—52)  has  shown  that  it— ("  the 
country  enclosed  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  and  ex- 
tending from  the  southern  border  of  Armenia  to  the  Pasitigris") 
— included  a  much  larger  tract  of  land.  Its  peculiar  name  is 
still  preserved  in  Mount  Sindshar  fNiclmhr,  Journey,  ii.  338.) 
The  expression  "  eastward,"  as  applying  to  the  land  of  Shinar 
(Gren.  xi.  2),  must  be  imderstood  as  referring  not  to  the  point 
whence  the  wanderers  started,  but  to  that  which  the  narrator  oc- 
cupied. 

(2.)  It  is  somewhat  difiicult  to  determine  the  precise  inten- 
tion, and  hence  the  degree  of  ungodliness,  of  those  who 
REARED  THE  TOWER.  Joscplius,  Autiq.,  i.  4,  2,  says  that  they 
had  wished  to  set  the  vengeance  of  God  at  defiance,  and  to  pro- 
tect themselves  against  another  flood.  To  this  Perizonius 
(Origines  Babylonica,  ch.  10 — 12)  repHes: — Turris  ilia  (Qt2J  = 

cT^fxelov)  futura  erat  signum,  quod  ut  aquila  legionem  Romanam 
in  acie  sic  hosce  homines  (pastorcs)  per  pascua  et  prata  vagantes 
cogeret  denuo  et  colligeret  identidem  in  unum  et  proprium  sibi 
locum,  ne  singuli  facile  dispergerentur  etc.  Similarly  Ed. 
Ndgelshacli  (the  prophet  Jeremiah  and  Babylon,  Erlg.  1850,  p. 
7)  :  "  If  we  consider  that  those  who  reared  the  tower  regarded 
the  earth  as  a  large  disk,  and  that  they  expected  that  an  increase 
of  the  popidation  would  lead  to  its  being  peopled  to  its  utmost 
boundaries,  we  can  readily  conceive  that  they  sought  to  prevent 
any  estrangement  on  the  part  of  those  who  might  be  scattered  to 
the  utmost  ends  by  erecting  a  great  monument  of  which  the  top 
would  be  visible  from  all  points  of  the  disk."  But  fear  of  dis- 
persion seems  only  to  have  been  a  subordinate  element ;  the  chief 
consideration  was:  "  let  us  make  us  a  name  (□\i,'»)'  which iS'/ic?)! 


110  PREPAUATORY  HISTORY.     ($  29.) 

seems  to  bear  some  reference  to  the  Shem  in  ch.  ix.  26,  27.  It 
is  the  more  probable  that  a  hostile  antagonism  to  the  race  of 
Shem  and  to  the  salvation  which  was  to  proceed  from  it  was  in- 
tended, as  according  to  ch.  x.  8 — 12  the  statement  of  Josephus 
that  this  rebellious  movement  had  originated  with  Nimrod,  the 
descendant  of  Ham,  is  apparently  correct.  In  their  rebelKous- 
ness  they  refuse  the  q^  appointed  by  God,  and  wish  to  make 

themselves  a  q^,  and  to  prepare  salvation  for  themselves  by 

combining  all  human  forces  ;  they  are,  so  to  spealv,  the  socialists 
and  the  communists  of  primeval  times.  Besides,  v.  6  distinctly 
indicates  that  God  had  regarded  this  building  of  a  city  and  tower 
as  only  the  commencement  of  a  much  more  dangerous  com-se,  the 
further  development  of  which  the  confusion  of  tongues  was  in- 
tended to  arrest.  On  the  probable  ruins  of  the  tower  comp.  S. 
Pi^eiswerk,  "  The  East,"  for  1839,  Fasc.  i.  Commonly  tliis  tower 
is  identified  with  that  of  Belus,  of  later  times,  described  by 
Herodotus  (i.  181)  and  Strabo  (i.  16  c.  1)  (comp.  Prideaux  i. 
98 ;  Universal  Hist.  i.  308  et  seq.  ;  Miinter,  Eelig.  of  the  Baby- 
lon, p.  48.)  But  this  opinion  is  rightly  controverted  by  Preis- 
toerk,  who  identifies  the  hill  Amram  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
Euphrates  as  the  ruins  of  the  temple  of  Belus,  and  the  Birs 
Nimriid  on  the  western  bank  of  that  river  as  those  of  the  tower 
of  Babel.  Delitzsch,  however,  deems  it  improbable  that  "  stone 
ruins  of  this  edifice  reared  by  the  race  after  the  flood  shoidd  still 
be  preserved." 

(3.)  It  is  very  difficult  to  realise  the  process  of  the  confu- 
sion OF  tongues.  In  his  treatise  de  confusione  linguarmn  (in 
his  observ.  ss.  i.  1)  C.  Vitringa  objects  to  the  view  commonly 
entertained,  and  attempts  to  shew  that  so  far  from  the  dispersion 
of  nations  having  been  caused  by  the  confusion  of  tongues,  the 
opposite  had  been  the  case.  The  expression:  "And  the  whole 
earth  was  of  one  lip  and  of  the  same  words  (of  one  language  and 
of  one  speech)"  applies  in  his  view  to  their  agreement  of  thoughts 
and  councils,  which  they  were  about  to  perpetuate  by  the  buildiug 
of  a  tower ;  the  "  confusio  labii,"  of  v.  7,  he  explains  as  a  "  dis- 
sensio  animorum,  per  quam  factum  sit,  ut,  qui  turrem  struebant, 
distracti  sint  in  contraria  stucha  et  consilia,"  just  as  we  read  in 
Ps.  Iv.  9,  "  Divide  their  tongues."  He  also  argues  that  the  verb 
i^TlD'O  in  V.  7  does  not  necessarily  mean  mteUigere,  but  as  in 
many  other  passages  cmscidtare,  ohtemperare.  According  to 
another  view  (A.  Feldhqffi\\e  table  of  nat.  in  Gen.  Elberf  1837, 
p.  5  et  seq.,  and  Hofmann  Predict,  i.  p.  96)  the  problem  may  be 
solved  by  assuming  that  the  organs  of  language  had  been  vio- 
lently affected  in  this  catastrophe,  while  according  to  the  common 
interpretation  language  was  divided  and  multiplied  by  a  miracu- 


CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES  AND  DISPERSION  OF  NATIONS.    (§29.)   Ill 

lous  and  direct  interi)Osition  on  the  part  of  God.  In  deciding  in 
iavour  of  the  latter  view  as  being  indicated  by  the  language  of 
the  text  we  would  not,  however,  absolutely  set  aside  the  other  two, 
but  rather  incorporate  tlieni  with  ours,  and  especially  wish  to  call 
attention  to  the  natural  aspect  of  this  event,  and  to  the  natural 
basis  from  which  the  divei'sity  of  tongues  sprang.  Since  the  fall 
all  the  relations  wliich  in  the  life  of  man  pnmeval  had  been  joined 
into  unity  have  become  separated  and  disjointed.  But  tliis 
separation  was  not  sudden,  nor  did  it  take  place  immediately  after 
the  fall,  but  only  after  tlie  powers  derived  from  original  creation, 
which  had  still  preserved  the  unity  of  man,  had  been  consumed, 
and  the  elements  which  caused  the  separation  had  accumulated  ; 
and  even  then  onlj'  in  consequence  of  a  violent  catastrophe,  in 
wliich  the  separating  obtained  the  victory  over  the  binding  and 
uniting  forces.  Thus  the  death  of  the  body  only  takes  place 
after  a  life  of  900  years'  duration,  the  chmatic  changes  in  nature 
only  after  the  flood,  and  lastly  the  separation  of  men  in  respect 
of  language,  nationality,  and  race,  only  by  the  violent  catastrophe 
here  recorded.  But  as  death  or  the  separation  between  body 
and  soul  in  the  life  of  the  individual  is  the  condition  of  a 
future  and  real  re-union  of  the  two  (in  the  resurrection),  so  are 
these  revolutions  also  in  the  life  of  nature  and  of  mankind. 

If  an  empirical,  one-sided,  and  unphilosophic  Anthropology 
has  i-aised  objections  to  the  Biblical  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  races, 
a  mistaken  Pliilolog}^  controverts,  in  connection  with  the  objec- 
tions already  mentioned,  the  Biblical  statement  concerning  the 
original  unity  of  languages  ;  and  as  the  former  maintains  that 
man  had  gradually  developed  from  the  lower  and  animal  stage, 
so  the  latter  would  attempt  to  derive  hmiian  language  from  a 
gradual  development  of  sounds  natural  to  animals.  In  opposi- 
tion to  tills,  comp.  the  opinions  and  conclusions  of  eminent 
philologists,  such  as  Adehmg,  Fr.  v.  Schlegel,  Merian,  Klaproth, 
Abel  liermisaf,  Prichard,  Le'psiHS,and  above  all,  W.  Humboldt 
(on  the  Kavi-language,  Introd.,  Berlin,  1836 — 40)  ;  J.  Grimm 
(on  the  Origin  of  Language,  Berlin,  1852).  Delitzscli  (Jesunm 
Grimmae,  1838)  has,  by  showing  the  relation  between  the  Shem- 
itic  and  Indo-Germanic  languages,  most  satisfactorily  estab- 
lished his  belief  that  a  comparison  of  different  languages  affords 
a  glimpse  of  their  former  and  original  unity.  Comp.  for  the 
elucidation  of  this  subject,  also  TholucJi,  Midzl,  and  Wiseman, 
11.  cc.  (§  20,  4)  ;  G.  P.  Chr.  Kaiser  on  the  Original  Lang., 
Erlg.  1840;  ieop.  ScJnnid,  Explan.  of  H.  Script.,  Miinster, 
1834,  i.,  p.  423,  et  seq.  It  is  another  and  not  less  important  or 
difficult  question,  which  had  been  the  one  original  language, 
and  in  what  relation  the  languages  presently  existing  stand  to  it. 
In  former  times,  it  was  universally  held  that  the  Hebrew  was  the 


112  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§29.) 

original  language,  preserved  from  primeval  times, — a  view  which 
31.  Baumgarten  (i.  155)  stiU  entertains.  Comp.  V.  E.  Loscher, 
de  causis  Lingiife  Hebraicfe,  c.  iii.  ;  Morinus  de  Lingua  Pri- 
msBva ;  G.  Carpzovii  Critica  S.  Lips.  1748,  p.  174,  et  seq.  ;  J. 
Buxtorf,  Dissert.  Philol.  TheoL,  Basil.  1662,  Diss.  i.  et  ii. ; 
Calmef,  Bibl.  Kesearches,  with  Notes  by  J.  L.  Mosheim,  Bremen, 
1741,  i.  1,  et  seq.  On  the  other  hand,  even  Ch^egor  Nyss. 
(Orat.  12  c.  Eunom.)  akeady  maintained  that  the  oldest  lan- 
guage had  been  lost.  The  same  view  was  afterwards  advo- 
cated by  Grotius  ad  Gen.  xi.  1  ;  by  Huetius  Demonstr.  ev.  Prop. 
4,  c.  13  ;  and  especially  by  Clerictis,  in  the  Diss,  de  Ling.  Hebr. 
in  vol.  i.  of  his  Comment.  Of  late,  the  view  that  all  existing 
languages  are  only  derived  from  the  one  original  tongue,  and  are 
of  nearly  the  same  age,  has  ahnost  generally  been  entertained. 
Comp.  Delitzsch  Gren. ,  p.  230,  et  seq.  The  principal  groimd  for 
the  former  opinion — in  the  fact  that  the  Bibhcal  names  from  the 
time  before  the  flood  are  aU  of  Hebrew  derivation — is  not  con- 
vincing. It  proves  no  more  than  what  we  already  know — ^that 
the  Hebrews  had  preserved  these  ancient  traditions.  In  general, 
the  loord,  but  especially  the  name,  is  the  body  with  wliich  the 
mind  clothes  its  representations  and  ideas.  But  if  the  des- 
cendants of  Shem  had  carried  with  them  the  representations 
and  the  recollection  of  the  persons  and  facts  of  primeval  times 
through  that  catastrophe  in  which  the  capacity  of  the  mind  to 
form  language  underwent  so  thorough  a  transformation,  these, 
even  as  aU  other  representations  and  ideas,  had  to  be  re-moidded, 
in  accordance  with  the  altered  principle  at  the  basis  of  the  for- 
mation of  language,  in  order  to  be  capable  of  being  communi- 
cated. Nor  may  we  overlook  the  fact  that  in  antiquity — and 
that  increasingly  as  we  ascend — a  most  intimate  connection  sub- 
sisted between  the  idea  attaching  to  a  person  and  the  name  of 
that  person. 

(4.)  It  has  rightly  been  supposed  that  Gen.  x.  25  furnishes 
an  approximative  indication  of  the  time  of  that  catastrophe 
— "  The  name  of  one  (son  of  Shem)  was  PeJeg,  for  in  his  days 
was  the  earth  divided."  Accordingly,  some  have  fixed  the  date 
of  the  dispersion  of  nations  as  in  the  year  101  after  the  flood, 
being  the  year  of  the  birth  of  Peleg.  But  against  this  we 
have  to  urge,  first,  that  the  expression  "  in  his  days,"  seems  to 
indicate  a  later  period,  when  Peleg  w^as  already  a  man  of  note ; 
then,  the  common  use  of  names  ;  and  lastly,  the  impossibility 
that  so  many  persons  as  would  have  been  requisite  for  the  build- 
ing of  the  tower  should  have  existed  at  that  period.  Peleg  lived 
239  years,  and  we  may  therefore  place  this  event  towards  the 
close  of  the  third,  or  the  conunencement  of  the  fourth  century 
after  the  flood.     For  the  want  of  definiteness  in  the  Biblical 


CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES  AND  DISPERSION  OF  NATIONS.   (§  29.)   1 1  3 

statement,  we  may  account  from  the  fact  that  the  narrator  de- 
signedly follows  the  chronological  thi-ead  only  in  and  for  the 
race  to  whom  the  promise  attaches.  Others  (as  for  ex.  Kapp, 
1.  c,  §  119,  et  seq.  ;  Kaiser,  "the  Original  Language")  under- 
stand hy  tliis  division  of  the  earth  a  severance  of  the  continents  ; 
and  Kaiser  thinks  that  the  expression  "  let  us  go  down,"  (Gen. 
xi.  7)  refers  to  the  natural  event  which  caused  this  separation, 
(and  rendered  a  return  hnpossible  to  those  who  were  scattered 
abroad). 

(5.)  For  an  explanation  of  the  register  of  nations,  comp. 
the  monographs  of  Buchart,  Phaleg  et  Canaan,  in  vol.  i.  of  his 
works  ;  J.  D.  Michaelis  Specilegium  Geogr.  extera3  post  Bochar- 
tum,  2  vols.,  Goett.  17G9,  4;  Ilosenmullers  Biblical  Arch^eol., 
vol.  \.;A.  Feldhoff,  Table  of  Nations,  Elberf  1837  ;  W.  KriicJce, 
Explanation  of  the  Table  of  Nat.  in  the  book  of  Gen.,  Bonn. 
1837 ;  Belx  Origines  Biblicce,  or  Kesearches  in  Primeval  His- 
tory, Lond.  1834 ;  Gorres,  the  Table  of  Nations  in  the  Penta- 
teuch, vol.  i.,  Eegensb.,  1845:  the  Descendants  of  Japheth;  A. 
Knobel,  the  Table  of  Nations  in  Genesis,  Giess.,  1850  ;  also  Ch. 
Forster,  the  Historical  Geography  of  Arabia,  2  vols.,  London, 
1844  ;  and  besides  the  Comment,  and  Diction.,  Fr.  v.  Meyer, 
Bible-Interpretations,  p.  155,  et  seq.  ;  "  Pages  for  Higher  Truth," 
xi.  Q^,  et  seq. ;  J.  P.  Lange  Misc.  Works,  i.,  122,  et  seq.  ;  and 
V.  Braunschioeig ,  Outlines  of  Univers.  Hist.,  Leipz.,  1833,  p. 
8 — 27.  As  to  the  historical  character  of  this  register  of  nations, 
comp.  HdvernicTc  Introduct.,  i.,  2,  p.  273,  et  seq. ;  Hengstenherg 
Egypt  and  the  books  of  Moses  (transl.  by  Bobbins  and  Taylor ; 
Edin.  T.  &  T.  Clark.)  As  to  their  importance  in  Univers.  Hist., 
consult  the  opinions  of  J.  v.  lliiUer  in  J.  G.  Milller's  Examin.  of 
the  Bible,  ii.  458  ;  and  of  i^r.  v.  Sclilegel  Philos.  of  Hist.  i.  227  et 
seq.  J.  G.  MiiUer  1.  c.  aptly  describes  it  as  "  a  genealogical  map 
of  the  world,  shewing  how  the  descendants  of  Noah  had  settled  in 
the  vicinity  of  that  part  of  Asia."  It  brings  do^m  the  development 
and  the  spread  of  nations  to  the  time  of  Moses  (comp.  Gen.  x.  19, 
Ewald  Hist.  i.  278  et  seq.,  and  the  Authors  Essay  on  the  original 
inh.abitants  of  Palest,  in  tlie  Lutlieran  Journal  for  1845  Ease.  3). 

To  take  the  names  occurring  in  the  table  or  nations  as 
applying  merely  to  single  individuals  or  to  founders  of  tribes,  is 
to  misunderstand  the  eastern  mode  both  of  viewing  and  of  writing 
history.  They  chiefly  refer  to  groups  of  nations,  the  later  name 
of  a  nation  being  transferred  to  its  ancestor,  as  according  to 
oriental  ideas  a  tribe  and  its  founder  are  in  reality  one.  Besides 
in  many  cases  the  same  name  applies  both  to  the  land  and  its 
inhabitants.  Thus  the  names  Canaan,  Aram,  kc,  were  in  the 
first  place  transferred  from  the  country  to  the  nation  and  then 
from  the  latter  to  its  founder,  who  represented  the  nation  in  its 

VOL.   I.  H 


114  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  20.) 

totality  and  unity.  When  the  personal  name  of  tlie  founder  of 
a  tribe  was  not  preserved  by  the  remembrance  of  events  connected 
with  liim,  it  gradually  sank  into  oblivion,  and  the  name  of  the 
nation  took  the  place  of  that  of  its  founder.  Besides,  we  have  to 
bear  in  mind  that  the  table  of  nations  starts  with  the  status  quo 
at  the  time  when  it  was  written  down,  and  only  solves  the  problem 
of  the  origin  of  n'Sition^  formally  by  shewing  their  evolution  (from 
one  to  many) ,  while  materially  it  proceeds  on  the  plan  of  reduc- 
tion, inasmuch  as  it  only  traces  the  origin  of  those  nations  which 
were  either  of  unportance  at  the  time  or  lay  within  the  horizon 
of  the  water.  With  Hengstenberg  and  Delitzsch  we  regard 
patriarchal  tradition  enriched  by  that  acquaintance  with  the  his- 
tory of  nations  wliich  the  Israelites  derived  from  the  Egyptians 
as  the  source  of  this  table  of  nations.  Hengstenberg  has  in  part 
shewn  that  the  knowledge  of  other  nations,  which,  as  the  monu- 
ments prove,  was  possessed  in  Egypt,  was  also  rendered  available 
for'constructing  this  table  of  nations.  Knobel  fixes  the  composi- 
tion of  this  portion  of  Genesis  (as  forming  part  of  the  original 
document)  about  the  year  1000  before  Christ,  and  hence  concludes 
that  assistance  had  only  been  derived  from  Phenician  sources. 
On  the  importance  of  tlus  table  for  sacred  hist.  comp.  Eanke 
Research,  i.,  182  ;  Drechsler  Unity,  110  ;  31.  Baumgarten  i.,  132 
et  seq.  ;  Delitzsch,  212  et  seq.  The  preservation  of  the  names  of 
these  nations,  while  sacred  history  is  about  to  leave  them  to 
pursue  their  own  ways,  indicates  that  they  are  not  to  be  wholly 
erased  from  the  records  of  sacred  history,  and  that  they  are  not 
entirely  omitted  from  the  council  of  eternal  love.  The  special 
interest  for  the  liistory  of  the  old  covenant  attaching  to  this  table 
consists  in  this,  that  it  generally  "  indicates  the  genealogical  posi- 
tion wliich  Israel  holds  among  the  nations  of  the  world."  Besides, 
as  all  primeval  Biblical  history,  it  forms  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
philosophical  notions  and  to  the  mjrths  of  heathenism  which 
speak  of  gods,  of  heroes,  and  of  millions  of  years. 

It  has  been  specially  objected  to  the  historical  credibility 
of  the  table  of  nations  that  the  affinities  of  languages  render  it 
impossible  to  credit  this  account  of  the  origin  of  nations.  More 
particularly  while  we  are  here  told  that  the  Canaanites  were 
descended  fi-om  Ham,  their  language,  it  is  asserted,  proves  their 
affinity  to  the  race  of  Shem.  But  even  granting  that  in  the  pre- 
sent defective  state  of  om*  knowledge  of  the  relations  then  sub- 
sisting it  were  impossible  satisfactorily  to  remove  these  difficulties, 
it  is  certainly  very  unliistorical  to  set  aside  definite  historical 
data  for  any  abstract  and  a  priori  reasoning  or  presumption 
such  as  that  of  the  affinity  of  languages  ;  especially  when  not  a 
single  tenable  argument  has  been  brought  forward  to  shew  that 
these  data  are  false.     With  reference  to  Canaan  it  has  indeed 


CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES  AND  DISPERSION  OF  NATIONS.   (§  29.)    115 

been  urged  (as  for  ex.  by  Tuch  p.  245)  that  the  national  hatred 
of  the  Israelites  had  induced  them  to  represent  the  former  as  the 
descendants  of  Ham  ;  but  to  this  it  has  often  been  repUed  that 
although  the  Israelites  had  no  doubt  cherished  similar  prejudices 
against  Edom,  Moab,  Amnion,  and  Amalek,  such  feelings  did 
not  induce  them  to  deny  that  they  hacTspfung  from  the  same  >^ 
stock.  Besides,  this  method  of  tracing  the  peculiarities  of  the 
table  of  nations  to  sui)posed  sympathies  and  antipathies  is  entirely 
refuted  by  the  similar  mention  of  Elam  and  Ashur.  On  the 
other  hand  the  statement  of  classical  writers  that  the  Phenicians 
had  originally  inhabited  the  southern  zone  of  the  earth,  whence 
confessedly  the  nations  sprung  from  Ham  had  migrated,  fur- 
nishes an  important,  because  an  entirely  independent,  historical 
testimony  in  favour  of  the  Biblical  account  of  the  affinity  between 
the  Canaanites  and  the  nations  belonging  to  the  family  of  Ham. 
Comp.  Bertheau  Contrib.  to  the  Hist.,  &c.,  p.  172  et  seq.,  and 
Eivald  i.,  328  et  seq.,  436  et  seq.  In  our  opinion  Knohel  has 
(1.  c.  p.  315)  completely  removed  the  difficulty  by  suggesting 
that  when  the  Canaanites  migrated  into  Palestine  they  adopted 
the  Shemitic  language  spoken  by  those  descendants  of  Shem  who 
had  resided  there  before  their  arrival,  comp.  §  45,  1.  The  same 
remark  most  probably  apphes  to  the  descendants  of  Terah  who 
at  a  later  period  migrated  under  Abraham  into  Palestine  (§  46), 
as  from  Glen.  xxxi.  it  may  safely  be  inferred  that  the  ancestors 
of  Abraham  had  spoken  the  Aramean  and  not  the  Hebrew  lan- 
guage. 

(6.)  The  direction  which  the  descendants  of  Noah  took 
on  their  dispersion  was  neither  the  result  of  mutual  accord,  of 
choice,  nor  of  chance.  They  followed  each  an  unconscious  and,  as  / 
it  were,  instinctive  motive,  a  kind  of  internal  "  rapport"  between  '• 
their  character  and  that  of  the  zones  towards  Avhich  they  directed  / 
their  steps.  Japheth,  easily  excitable,  was  only  adapted  for 
the  north  and  for  the  temperate  zone.  His  descendants,  who 
constitute  the  moving  and  impelling  element  in  history,  settled  in 
northern  Asia  and  all  over  Europe  (comp.  Hor.  Od.  i. ,  3 :  audax 
Japheti  genus).  Ham  turned  toward  the  south — the  heat  of  a 
southern  sun  corresponded  both  with  his  name  and  his  character. 
He  settled  at  first  in  the  southern  peninsulas  of  Asia,  from  whence 
he  migrated  into  Africa.  The  race  of  Shem  forms  the  stable 
fixed  element  in  history.  In  accordance  with  this  its  character 
it  was  probably  less  aiiected  than  any  other  by  the  storm  that 
caused  the  migration  of  the  nations.  It  struck  its  roots  in  ante- 
rior Asia.  The  circle  described  by  the  settlements  of  Shem  is 
drawn  by  Eivald  (i.  327)  as  "  conmaencing  in  the  south-east 
with  Elam  (Elymais),  on  the  other  side  of  the  Tigris  by  the 
Persian  Sea,  extending  thence  tlu-ough  Assur  (the  Assyrians) 

h  2 


1  IG  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  29.) 

northwards,  along  the  Tigris,  turning  with  Arpaxad  to  the 
northwest,  then  continuing  with  Lud  (the  Lydians)  westwards 
to  the  Shemitic  nations  of  Asia  Minor  and  again  returning  with 
Aram  in  a  south-easterly  direction  to  the  Euphrates."  This 
threefold  division  of  nations  according  to  the  sons  of  Noah,  does 
not,  however,  completely  tally  with  the  division  of  races  as  at 
present  exhibited.  Comp.  Feldlwff  1.  c,  p.  134  et  seq.,  and  J. 
P.  Lange  1.  c.  i.,  127  et  seq.  The  latter  rightly  remarks  that 
this  very  circumstance  speaks  in  favour  of  our  table  of  nations. 
It  were  inconceivable  that  the  three  kindred  original  tj^es,  Shem, 
Ham,  and  Japheth,  should  at  that  period  have  already  become 
completely  separated  and  formed  into  indi\ddual  races.  The 
formation  of  races  must  necessarily  have  taken  place  at  a  later 
period  in  the  development  of  the  life  of  these  original  tribes. 
The  descendants  of  Japheth  develop  into  the  Caucasian  race ; 
the  African  descendants  of  Ham  into  the  negro  race.  The 
sympathy  subsisting  between  Shem  and  Japheth  and  the  anti- 
pathy between  them  and  Ham,  as  well  as  the  fact  that  the  two  for- 
mer had  settled  beside  each  other  around  Ararat,  occasioned  the 
common  features  in  their  bodily  conformation  and  their  differ- 
ence from  the  race  of  Ham,  while  the  Mongolian  conformation 
of  the  race  of  Ham  in  southern  Asia  and  in  the  north-east  of 
Africa,  which  holds  an  intermediate  place  between  the  Caucasian 
and  the  Ethiopian  or  pure  negro  race,  indicates  the  many  points 
of  relation  in  intercourse,  commerce,  culture,  and  language  which 
subsisted  between  the  descendants  of  Ham  and  those  of  Shem 
and  Japheth.  For  an  excellent  sketch  of  the  peculiarities  of 
each  of  the  three  great  races  we  refer  to  Gorres  1.  c.  i.,  52  et  seq. 


HEATHENISM. 

(Comp.  Ad.  Wiitke  Hist,  of  Heathen,  in  its  bearing  on  Relig., 
Science,  Art,  Morality,  and  the  State,  vol.  i.,  Bresl.  1852 ;  J.  A. 
Mohler  Heathenism,  in  the  Munich  hist,  polit.  Journal  iii.,  p. 
185  et  seq.  ;  Volkmuth  on  the  paed.  Rel.  of  the  anc.  World  to 
the  Christian  age,  Bonn  (Roman)  Catholic  Journal,  Ease,  xxv., 
p.  38  et  seq. ;  J.  P.  Lange  Life  of  Jesus  i.,  45  et  seq.  ;  J.  H. 
Steffens  Anthropol.  i.,  354  et  seq.  ;  Schubert  View  of  the  dark 
side  of  Nature,  &c.,4thed.  1840,  pp.  50  et  seq.  241  et  seq.  ;  K. 
H.  Sack  Clirist.  Apologetics,  2d  ed.  Hamb.  1841,  p.  92  et  seq.  ; 
J.  Seb.  V.  Drey  Apologetics,  Mayence  1843,  vol.  ii.,  53  et  seq.  ; 
J.  B.  V.  Hirscher  Chr.  Ethics  3d  ed.  i.,  346  et  seq.  ;  31.  Baum- 


HEATHENISM.    (§  30.)  117 

garten  Apost.  Hist,  (transl.  by  the  Kev.  A.  J.  W.  Morrison,  Edinl). 
T.  &  T.  Clark)  ii.,  p.  159  et  seq.) 

§  30.  The  birth  of  heathenism  may  be  dated  from  the  moment 
when  the  presumptuous  statement  was  uttered:  "  Go  to,  let  us 
build  us  a  city  and  a  tower  whose  top  may  reach  unto  heaven, 
and  let  us  make  us  a  name."  Viewed  in  its  negative  aspect  it  is 
the  principle  of  heathenism  to  deny  the  living  and  personal  God 
and  to  slight  the  salvation  which  He  has  afore-determined ; 
viewed  in  its  positive  aspect,  heathenism  cherishes  the  vain  hope 
that  man  is  able,  even  as  he  is  shut  up,  to  deliver  himself  by  his 
own  power  and  wisdom,  and  hence  is  an  attempt  to  bring  about 
salvation  with  the  means  at  the  disposal  of  man  (1.)  The 
undertaking  to  which  the  text  refers  brought  this  principle  for 
the  first  time  clearly  to  consciousness.  Thus  the  building  of  the 
tower  became  the  commencement  of  a  new  development  which, 
as  it  could  neither  attain  its  goal  nor  was  to  be  cut  short  by  a 
universal  judgment  like  that  of  the  flood  (Gen.  viii.  21  et  seq. , 
comp.  §  27,  4),  could  only  terminate  in  ruin.  But  the  Provi- 
dence of  God  could  render  even  this  ruin  subservient  to 
its  purposes  and  yet  ultimately  conduct  towards  salvation  even 
this  development  which  had  formerly  renounced  the  way  of  sal- 
vation (2.)  The  circiunstance  that  the  text  represents  the  con- 
fusion of  tongues  and  tlie  dispersion  of  nations  in  which  it  re- 
sulted as  being  a,  judgment  and  Si  punishment  does  not  exclude — 
it  rather  implies  that  it  was  also  the  natural  consequence  of  the 
development  which  had  commenced,  and  that  as  being  a  means 
of  chastisement  it  was  also  fraught  with  blessing  in  its  bearing 
upon  the  development  which  was  yet  future.  While  God  allows 
the  nations  to  foUow  their  own  ways,  He  has  set  even  to  these 
ways  a  goal,  in  agreement  with  His  own  good  pleasure,  and 
while  He  leaves  them  to  themselves  He  does  not  forsake  them. 
In  tMs  sense  heathenism  also  has  its  Divine  Sanction. 

(1.)  Even  JoscjL>A 2/*' is  of  this  opinion.  Of  Nimrod,  whom  he 
describes  as  the  originator  of  the  scheme  for  building  the  tower 
and  as  the  father  of  heathenism,  he  says  (Ant.  i.  4,  2)  :  "  He 
persuaded  them  not  to  ascribe  it  to  God,  as  if  it  was  through 
His  means  they  were  happy,  but  to  believe  that  it  was  tlieii-  own 
courage  which  procurerl  thnt  lia]ipiness." 


118  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§31.) 

(2.)  Heathenism  is  the  'prodigal  son  whom,  because  he  will  no 
longer  remain  in  his  father's  house  and  under  his  special  super- 
intendence, care,  and  instruction,  the  father  allows  to  depart  into 
the  world,  well  knowing  that  when  at  last  he  shall  have  wasted 
all  his  goods  and  would  fain  fill  his  belly  with  the  husks  which 
the  swine  eat,  both  present  wants  and  past  experience  will  make 
him  willing,  gladly  and  thankfully  to  occupy  the  place  which  had 
been  kept  ready  and  open  for  him.  The  relics  of  his  original 
state,  of  primeval  times  and  of  primeval  religion,  these  are  the 
portion  of  goods  which  the  son  takes  with  him  and  which  he 
wastes  in  the  riotous  worship  of  nature — but  they  are  also  the 
solemn  and  ever-present  monitor  who  had  followed  him  ;  "  the 
law  written  in  the  heart"  followed  liim  wherever  he  strayed,  and 
however  far  he  may  have  wandered  from  his  father's  house  it 
still  constitutes  a  bond  of  connection  with  it.  Hence  the  draw- 
ing which  is  the  consequence  of  Ms  descent  and  affinity  as  the 
"  otfspring  of  God"  (Acts  xvii.  29),  hence  also  the  felt  want  within 
which  ever  manifests  itself,  and  the  longing  after  the  lost  peace 
of  heart  which  can  never  be  wholly  suppressed.  The  prodigal 
could  not  find  the  bliss  for  which  he  had  hoped  in  those  ways 
which  he  had  chosen.  On  the  contrary,  they  led  to  misery, 
hunger,  and  nakedness.  But  still  these  thousands  of  years  of 
wandering  were  not  to  be  wholly  lost  nor  to  pass  without  leaving 
any  result.  On  his  wanderings  he  was  to  acquire  experience  and 
possessions,  he  was  to  develop  powers  and  capacities,  with  which 
on  his  return  he  could  become  the  more  useful  and  serviceable  to 
his  father's  house,  that  there  they  could  not  have  been  acquired 
in  tlie  same  measure,  because  there  the  whole  energy  and  all  the 
force  of  development  was  in  the  first  place  to  be  applied  for  the 
attainment  of  other  and  more  important  objects  which  could  only 
be  realised  there. 

§  31.  We  have  to  acknowledge  the  existence  of,  and  to  dis- 
tinguish between,  a  brighter  and  a  darker  aspect  in  heathenism. 
If  from  this  point  of  view  we  regard  first  the  religious  develop- 
ment of  heathenism,  we  must  admit  that  it  was  not  entirely 
destitute  of  every  element  of  truth.  Else,  whence  the  almost 
inconceivable  fascination  and  the  seductive  power  which  it  exer- 
cised dm-ing  its  brightest  period  ?  Falsehood,  if  unmitigated,  is 
not  attractive — ^it  only  attracts  by  means  of  the  partial  truth  which 
it  contains  (1.)  Among  these  elements  of  truth  we  reckon 
not  only  the  relics  of  a  primeval  religion,  but  also  and  especially 
its  anticipations  of  future  truths.  Heathenism  was  throughout 
find  wholly  Pantheistic ;  it  was  a  religion  for  time,  and  wholly 


HEATIIE>^ISM.    (§  31.)  119 

io'iiored  both  a  future  salvation  and  a  hereafter.  It  wished  to 
enjoy  where  it  could  only  hope,  to  hioio  where  it  could  only  have 
anticipated,  to  behold  where  it  should  have  believed.  It  turned 
away  from  the  hving  God,  because  He  was  a  God  not  only  at 
hand  but  also  a/ar  off,  because  He  pointed  His  people  to  the 
future  and  to  a  hereafter,  while  on  the  other  hand  it  whoUy  sur- 
rendered itself  to  nature,  whose  fidness  of  life  and  of  enjoyments 
was  ever  present  and  at  hand.  It  broke  through  the  boundary- 
lines  of  organic  development,  it  anticipated  that  truth  which 
could  only  make  its  full  and  healthy  appearance  at  a  later  period, 
and  hence  presented  it  not  as  truth  but  immature,  and  as  a 
caricature  of  the  devil's  invention.  The  nature-worship  of 
heathenism  is  a  hot-house  in  which  the  exotic  plant  of  a  future 
and  of  a  hereafter  is  made  to  grow  on  soil  foreign  to  it,  through 
powers  not  natural  to  it,  and  with  a  j)remature  development. 
Thus  for  example  the  Shibboleth  of  Pantheism  "  that  God  may 
be  aU  in  aU"  (1  Cor.  xv.  28)  is  such  a  truth.  But  it  is  a  truth 
which  can  only  attain  its  full  and  perfect  realisation  after  thou- 
sands of  years  of  development,  and  at  the  termination  of  the 
present  order  of  tilings.  But  heathenism  anticipated  this  truth 
and  placed  it  at  the  top  of  its  development.  The  hot-house 
plant  bore  blossoms  among  them,  some  that  were  lovely,  but  they 
could  not  ripen  into  fruit.  Tliis  mixture  of  truth  and  falsehood, 
of  the  Divine  and  the  devihsh,  tliis  prematm-e  anticipation,  tliis 
deceptive  splendour  of  early  blossoms  constituted  both  the  power 
and  the  seductive  fascination  of  heathenism.  Its  power  could 
only  be  broken  when  what  was  false  in  it  had  wholly  absorbed 
every  remainder  of  truth,  when  the  blossom  had  faded  and  was 
fallen  off  ^^dthout  giving  place  to  the  fruit.  Then  it  could  no 
longer  withstand  the  charge  of  hoUowness  and  of  entire  impo- 
tence to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  the  soul.  At  that  stage  it  had 
reached  both  its  natural  and  necessary  termination,  and  the 
Divinely  decreed  goal  of  its  development. 

(1.)  If  heathenism  liad  been  merely  a  delusion  and  entirely  a 
lie  it  coidd  not  again  and  again  have  entangled  in  its  meshes  the 
people  of  God,  wdio  were  daily  witnesses  of  Divine  omnipotence, 
and  possessed  in  their  worship  the  richest  and  most  profound 
mysteries.  Nor  could  it  have  enabled  its  adherents  to  make 
those  unparalleled  sacrihccK  which  they  continually  and  willingly 


120  PREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  32.) 

rendered  in  its  service.  It  conld  not  have  been  merely  an  empty 
superstition  which  produced  the  resignation  necessary  for  offering 
to  the  gods  whole  hecatombs — it  could  not  have  been  ordinary 
madness  which  induced  the  priests  of  Cybele  to  make  themselves 
eunuchs — it  was  not  low  carnal  lust  which  induced  the  noblest 
virgins  to  give  themselves  up  to  any  stranger  in  the  temple  of 
Mylitta — nor  was  it  want  of  love  to  their  cliildren  or  unfeeling 
cruelty  which  induced  parents  to  throw  their  cliildren  into  the 
arms  of  Moloch,  &c. 

§  32.  In  respect  of  ivorldly  civilisation,  heathenism  was  in- 
tended to  lead  to  another  issue  than  that  of  its  religious  de- 
velopment. It  was  not  negatively  only,  but  also  positively,  to 
prepare  the  way  for  the  perfection  of  the  Idngdom  of  Grod,  In 
this  respect  heathenism  also  was  to  furnish  materials  for  that 
magnificent  building,  the  kingdom  of  God,  wliich  was  designed 
to  cover  everything.  Indeed,  what  heathenism  has  produced  in 
philosophy  and  poetry,  in  art  and  science,  or,  in  general,  in 
worldly  cultm-e,  remains,  and  is  in  part  unsm^passed,  while  it  has 
also  materially  aided  that  Cliristia,n  culture  which  is  destined  to 
pervade  every  department,  and  to  render  it  sacred.  These 
blossoms  were  followed  by  fruit,  which  remain  and  form  the  im- 
perishable and  living  bases  of  Cluistian  cultm'e.  On  this  gromid 
heathenism  has  its  preparatory  character  as  weU  as  Judaism, 
and  occupies  a  parallel  and  independent  place.  These  two 
directions  could  only  be  joined  into  one,  when  both  had  attained 
maturity — and  the  fruit  of  their  union  is  Christian  culture. 

(1.)  Our  remarks  about  heathenism  refer,  of  course,  only  to 
the  period  before  the  coming  of  Christ.  Its  later  stage  is  wholly 
without  the  Divine  sanction,  which,  in  some  measure,  attached 
to  its  former  era.  Ancient  heathenism,  as  well  as  Judaism,  had 
fulfilled  its  purpose  at  the  time  of  the  Lord.  In  its  j)resent 
shape,  heathenism  as  well  as  Judaism  is  only  a  caricature.  It 
may  be  compared  to  decaying  ruins,  or  to  lifeless  and  decaying 
members  of  the  body.  Hence,  neither  art,  nor  science,  nor 
culture,  can  develop  in  it. 


APPENDIX  ON  THE  LIMITS  OF  A  PREPARATORY  HISTORY. 

H.  A.  Hahn  (in  Keuter's  Kepert.  1849,  P.  9,  p.  201)  has  ob- 
jected to  the  limits  within  which  we  have  traced  this  preparatory 


APPENDIX  ON  THE  LIMITS  OF  A  PKEPARATORY  HISTORY.     121 

history.  This  critic  holds  that  sacred  liistoiy  bears,  after  the 
time  of  Abraham,  essentially  the  same  character  as  before  that 
patriarch  ;  and  he  would  extend  the  bounds  of  the  prehminary 
history  to  the  giving  of  the  law  on  Mount  Sinai,  where,  in  his 
view,  the  history  of  the  Old  Covenant  really  commenced.  We 
cannot,  however,  share  this  opinion.  We  do  not  agree  with  this 
scholar  that  "  the  covenant  with  Abraham  was  essentially  the 
same  as  the  transference  of  the  promises  to  Shem,  and  from  the 
latter  to  Arphaxad,  with  this  difference  only,  that  the  latter  trans- 
ferences were  not  expressly  recorded."  We  are  not  warranted  in 
inferring  tliis,  since  it  is  not  mentioned  in  Scrij)ture.  On  the 
contrary,  the  silence  of  the  text  implies  that  no  such  transference 
had  taken  place.  The  register  of  names  in  Gren.  xi.  10,  et  seq., 
as  well  as  the  short  remark  in  Gren.  x.  21 ,  are  only  of  importance 
in  respect  of  genealogy,  not  of  liistoriology,  while  Gen.  x.  25  has 
only  a  chronological  bearing,  and  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  testi- 
mony that  the  promise  had  been  exclusively  transferred  to  Peleg. 
If  such  had  taken  place,  we  would,  in  agreement  with  the  plan 
and  spirit  of  the  record,  have  expected  that,  just  as  in  the  case 
of  Isaac  and  Jacob,  so  in  that  of  the  patriarchs  in  Gen.  xi.  10, 
et  seq.,  the  fact  would  have  been  expressly  mentioned.  Besides 
— and  this  decides  the  question — the  character  of  the  history  be- 
fore the  calling  of  Abraham  is  essentially  different  from  that  sub- 
sequent to  that  event.  His  selection  constitutes  a  new  principle 
in  sacred  history,  which  continues  to  develop  till  it  reaches  its 
climax  in  the  incarnation  of  God  in  Christ,  so  that  in  Abraham 
and  in  Cluist  we  have  the  beginning  and  the  end,  the  promise 
and  the  fulfilment,  of  this  one  and  unbroken  portion  of  sacred 
history.  The  giving  of  the  law  on  Mount  Sinai  does  not  break 
off  this  development,  as  the  judgment  of  the  flood  and  of  the 
confusion  of  tongues  had  broken  off'  former  series'  of  development. 
The  history  which  commences  with  Abraham  continues  mibroken 
till  the  judgment  which  Titus  was  called  to  execute  against  the 
covenant-people.  The  gi^^ng  of  the  law  on  Mount  Sinai  is  only 
a  high  point,  although  the  most  prominent,  in  the  history  be- 
tween Abraham  and  Christ.  It  is  not  the  commencement  of  a 
new  liistory.  True,  it  is  called  a  covenant,  but  it  does  not  differ 
essentially  from  that  with  Abraham.  It  does  not  stand  in  the 
same  relation  to  the  Abrahamic  as  the  latter  to  the  Noachic 


122  rREPARATORY  HISTORY.    (§  32.) 

covenant.  The  covenant  with  Noah  was  made  with  all  man- 
kind ;  the  covenant  with  Abraham  was  made  with  him  as  the 
ancestor  of  the  holy  people,  while  that  on  Sinai  was  made  with 
'-^the  people  as  the  seed  of  Abraham.  When  the  building  of 
the  tower  commenced,  the  principle  of  heathenism  appeared  in- 
deed for  the  first  time,  and  after  that  all  nations  followed  in  their 
own  ways.  But  at  that  time  not  only  the  descendants  of  Japheth 
and  of  Ham,  but  even — although  at  a  later  period,  yet  no  less 
decidedly — ^those  of  Shem  also  went  astray,  as,  according  to 
Josh.  xxiv.  2,  14,  even  Terah,  Abraham's  father,  had  been  an 
idolater.  Then,  if  ever,  a  new  period  must  have  commenced ; 
and  this  really  took  place  when  God  chose,  called,  and  entered 
into  covenant  with,  Abraham.  Hence  we  do  not  think  that  the 
separation  of  the  nations  in  the  plain  of  Shinar  is  the  point  where 
heathenism  and  Judaism,  or,  more  correctly,  where  the  two  an- 
tagonistic series'  of  development  in  the  history  of  the  world  before 
Christ,  which  appeared  in  heathenism  and  Judaism,  diverged. 
The  latter  only  takes  place  when  Abraham  is  called  ;  and  here 
the  separation  of  the  two  really  commences.  Hahn  is  indeed 
right  in  thinking  that  the  history  of  the  Theocracy  only  com- 
mences with  the  gi^dng  of  the  law  on  Mount  Sinai.  But  then 
we  write  the  history  of  the  Old  Covenant,  and  not  that  of  the 
Theocracy.  The  Noachic  covenant  is  indeed  more  ancient 
than  the  Abrahamic  (which  is  called  the  old  in  contradistinc- 
tion to  the  new  covenant).  If  we  had  treated  of  this  covenant, 
we  should  have  commenced  with  the  history  of  Noah,  and 
brought  it  down  to  the  period  when,  by  means  of  the  missionary 
activity  of  Paul,  the  descendants  of  Japheth  entered  the  tents  of 
Shem.  Lastly,  we  do  not  intend  to  write — what  Halm  would 
entitle — "A  History  of  the  Pre-Cliristian  Development  of  the 
Kingdom  of  God,"  else  we  should  have  commenced  with  the 
Fall,  if  not  with  the  Creation.  Nor  could  we  have  scientifically 
finished  our  undertaking.  If  the  kingdom  of  God  is  the  subject, 
a  scientific  treatment  of  the  subject  would  require  that  it  should 
be  continued  to  its  perfection  at  the  end  of  time. 


111. 
HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 


(    ^25    ) 


THE  MEANING,  PURPOSE,  AND  GOAL  OF  THE 
OLD  COVENANT. 


§  33.  After  the  Fall,  deliverance  from  sin  and  from  its  conse- 
quences had  become  the  object  and  aim  of  history.  This  salva- 
tion was  to  appear  among  men  as  the  fairest  blossom,  and  as  the 
climax  of  all  historical  development,  directed  as  it  was  by  the 
Divine  purpose  of  grace.  But  soon  afterwards  this  development 
took  a  direction  contrary  to  the  will  of  God  and  fundamentally 
wrong,  and  that  to  such  an  extent  that  a  universal  judgment 
from  the  Lord  had  to  break  it  oiF,  because,  had  it  continued  in 
the  same  direction,  it  would  have  led,  not  to  salvation,  but  to 
absolute  destruction.  One  man  only  was  rescued  from  the 
general  ruin,  and  he  became  the  commencement  of  a  neiv  de- 
velopment, which  again  tended  to  the  goal  formerly  set.  But  it 
also  degenerated,  not,  indeed,  to  the  extent  of  necessitating  an- 
other universal  judgment  in  order  to  preserve  the  Divine  plan  of 
salvation,  but  so  far  as  to  become  incapable  of  sustaining  or 
carrying  out  the  Divine  purpose  of  grace.  Yet,  if  not  in  a  posi- 
tive, still  in  a  negative  manner,  this  development  might  prepare 
the  way  for  the  coming  deliverance.  Having  started  with  con- 
fidence and  reliance  on  personal  power  and  wisdom,  it  could  only 
end  in  despair  of  all  possibility  to  attain  the  salvation  of  man  hy 
its  own  efforts.  But  tliis  also  prepared  the  way  for  the  advent 
of  that  true  deliverance  which  God  Himself  had  in  the  meantime 
prepared. 

§  34.  Although  the  descendants  of  Shem  had  resisted  longer 
than  others  the  threatening  aggressions  of  the  principle  of 
heathenism,  they  idtimately  succumbed  to  it.  (Josh.  xxiv.  2, 
14.)  It  is  manifest  that  when  even  the  race,  in  whose  tents,  ac- 
cording to  the  promise,  salvation  was  to  be  wrought  out,  fell 
victims  to  the  antagonistic  power,  something  new  required  to  be 
created,  in  order  to  prepare  the  way  of  salvation.  A  new  de- 
velopment, in  direct  opposition  to  that  of  heathenism,  required 
i 


126  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  34,  35.) 

to  be  commenced,  the  positive  fruits  of  which  could  alone  give 
import  and  vakie  to  the  negative  results  of  heathenism.  Con- 
necting itself  with  the  former  prediction  and  in  fulfilment  of  it, 
this  new  development  must  proceed  from  the  race  of  Shem.  As 
a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning  one  man  was  to  be  rescued 
from  this  race  which  had  already  become  entangled  in  the  com- 
mon degeneracy  and  to  be  transplanted  into  fresh  soil,  there  to 
be  placed  under  new  conditions  and  to  be  furnished  with  fresh 
powers  and  new  aid.  With  this  chosen  one  God  entered  into 
covenant ;  he  is  destined  again  to  become  the  commencement  of 
what  was  to  prepare  the  way  for  salvation.  The  care  of  the 
sanctuary  is  committed  to  him  and  to  his  successors  ;  they  become 
the  centre  of  all  revelation  and  of  every  preparatory  institution  ; 
there  the  salvation  is  prepared  in  which,  when  it  has  appeared, 
all  nations  are  to  share.  Hitherto  deliverance  had  been  expected 
thi'ough  the  seed  of  the  ivoman  ;  now  the  circle  narrows  and  all 
nations  of  the  earth  are  to  be  blessed  in  Abrahams  seed. 

§  35.  This  third  commencement  in  the  development  of  salva- 
tion is  distinguished  by  its  Particularism  from  the  Universalism 
of  the  two  former  commencements.  The  latter  principle  lay  at 
the  foundation  of  the  two  former  series'  of  development :  the  care 
of  the  sanctuary  had  formerly  been  committed  to  nfianhind  gene- 
rally. This  arose  from  the  circumstance  that  in  each  of  the  two 
former  cases  the  development  had  always  commenced  with  one 
universal  ancestor.  Creation  had  given  a  universal  character  to 
the  first,  the  general  judgment  of  the  flood  to  the  second  series. 
But  if  the  new  development  of  salvation  were  a  third  time  to 
have  been  committed  to  mankind  generally,  the  whole  degenerate 
race,  with  the  exception  of  that  individual  with  whom  the  new 
development  was  to  have  commenced,  woidd  have  required  to 
have  been  swept  from  the  earth  by  a  universal  judgment.  But 
its  corruption  was  not  so  manifestly  and  entirely  contrary  to  God 
as  it  had  been  at  a  former  period,  when  a  universal  judgment 
had  become  absolutely  necessary.  It  had  rather  taken  a  direc- 
tion which,  despite  its  erroneous  character,  did  not  render  it 
ivholly  incapable  of  coming  under  the  influence  of  salvation. 
But  this  susceptibility  was  so  much  pushed  into  the  background 
that  it  could  only  re-appear  when  the  seeds  of  destruction,  by 


MEANING  AND  PURPOSE  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.  (§  35,  3G.)  127 

which  it  was  overshadowed,  had  attained  to  maturity,  and  then  and 
thus  destroyed  themselves.  Mankind  was  therefore  stiU  capable 
of  being  brought  within  the  pale  of  salvation.  But  this  could 
not  be  done  either  in  a  sudden  manner  or  by  violent  and  magical 
means,  nor  could  it  be  immediately  applied  to  mankind  generally. 
Mankind  had  to  be  prepared  for  salvation,  and  this  salvation 
prepared  for  them.  Hence  the  deliverance  about  to  be  com- 
menced started  from  a  particularistic  principle,  and  tended 
towards  a  universal istic  goal.  As  every  true  development  of 
the  creature  must  organically  unfold  and  progress,  salvation  also 
had  to  unfold  from  germ  to  fruit,  and  to  grow  from  the  one 
root  into  the  tree  with  its  many  branches ;  it  bore  the  character 
of  separation  only  till  it  had  matured  so  far  as  to  become  capable 
of  becoming  imiversal.  And  as  salvation  destined  for  man  could 
only  develop  in  man,  it  could  only  be  entrusted  to  one  single 
individual,  with  the  development  of  whom  salvation  also  was  to 
develop.  Hence  we  see  Judaism  develop  by  the  side  of  hea- 
thenism— the  latter  was  to  prepare  mankind  for  salvation,  the 
former  salvation  for  mankind. 

§  30.  Judaism  and  heathenism  are  two  series'  of  development 
running  parallel  and  yet  opposed  to  each  other,  conditioning  and 
yet  excluding  each  other.  In  distinct  contrast  with  heathenism 
the  chosen  race  exhibit  from  the  first  the  characteristics  of  deep 
humility,  of  confident  faith,  and  of  longing,  hope  and  waiting. 
These  traits  appear  also  throughout  the  whole  course  of  their  his- 
tory in  so  far  as  the  latter  was  in  agreement  with  the  idea  and 
the  reqmrements  of  the  covenant.  This  people  does  not  expect 
anything  from  its  owti  power  or  wisdom,  but  everything  ft'om  the 
interposition  of  Jehovah.  It  does  not  expect  deliverance  from 
anything  present  but  from  something  future — tliither  its  longing 
gaze  is  directed,  thither  do  predictions,  worsliip,  and  national 
institutions  point.  Israel  is  emphatically  the  people  of  longing 
and  expectation  ;  the  voice  of  one  that  crieth  in  the  wilderness 
"  prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord."  Tnie,  the  common  corruption 
of  the  human  heart  appears  frequently  in  this  race  also,  and  tliat 
the  more  painfully  the  more  it  contrasts  with  everything  around. 
Too  frequently  the  spirit  of  the  world  claims  this  people  also 
as  its  own,  and  too  often  does  it  voluntarily  subject  itself  to  the 


128  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT.    (§  36.) 

essential  principle  of  heathenism  ;  but  under  the  discipline  of  God 
the  manifestations  of  its  own  peculiar  tendency  by  and  bye  always 
re-appear  again,  and  that  generally  in  each  case  more  distinctly 
than  formerly.  On  the  other  hand  heathenism  and  not  Judaism 
18  distinguished  by  art  and  science,  by  culture  and  worldly 
civilisation.  But  that  which  was  wholly  wanting  in  heathenism 
appeared  the  more  richly  in  the  people  of  God.  It  is  rich  in 
religious  culture  and  in  Divine  wisdom,  it  is  strong  in  hope  and 
mighty  through  a  faith  which  conquers  the  world.  Science^  art, 
worldly  culture,  and  in  general  the  vessels  for  the  coming  salva- 
tion ivere  to  he  prepared  by  the  heathen,  hut  salvation  itself 
solely  hy  the  Jeivs  (John  iv.  22).  However  this  is  not  to  be 
understood  as  if  heathenism  had  in  the  fruits  of  its  development 
become  serviceable  only  and  for  the  first  time  to  Christianity,  as 
the  perfection  of  Old  Testament  revelation.  Heathenism  exer- 
cised also  a  mighty  influence  on  the  development  of  the  prepara- 
tory religion  of  the  Old  Testament  (1)  ;  and  that  to  such  an 
extent  that  the  history  of  the  Old  Testament  might  even  be 
divided  into  periods  according  to  the  heathen  elements  under 
which  it  developed  (2.)  Israel  is  brought  into  contact  with  aU 
the  forms  of  heathenism,  and  aU  of  them  give  a  fresh  impulse  to 
a  new  and  more  full  development  of  its  rehgious  consciousness. 

(1.)  This  influence  of  heathenism  on  Old  Testament  revelation 
is  threefold.  It  is  formal  in  so  far  as  heathenism  offers  a  suit- 
able form  m  which  its  contents  may  be  presented.  This  remark 
applies  specially  to  religious  Symholic.  Another  source  of  influ- 
ence may  be  designated  as  material  and  that  negatively  in  so  far 
as  the  lie  of  heathenism  became  the  occasion  and  motive  for  the 
unfolding  of  the  opposite  truth  ;  and  positively  in  so  far  as  the 
distorted  and  prematm'ely  developed  truth  in  heathenism  passed 
through  the  sanctifying  and  purifying  flame  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment rehgious  principle,  and  of  the  progressive  Old  Testament 
revelation,  thereby  losing  its  distortion  and  impm-e  additions, 
and  then  became  an  element  in  the  rehgious  consciousness  of  the 
Israelites. 

(2.)  The  banks  of  the  Euphrates  and  of  the  Tigris  were  the 
common  birth-place  of  heathen  culture.  Without  doubt  the 
races  which  sprung  from  Terah,  and  to  whom  through  the  seed 
of  Abraham  the  chosen  race  belonged,  had  shared  in  this  common 
original  culture.  And  when  this  original  culture  had  separated 
into  various  forms,  Israel  shared  in  each  of  tliem  whenever  they 


HOUNDARIES  AND  NAME  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§  37,  38.)  129 

had  each  attained  to  maturity.  In  the  sense  above  explained 
Israel  came  first  under  Egy2)tian,  then  under  Phoenico-Baby- 
lonian,  then  under  Persian,  and  finally  under  Greco-Hellenistic 
influences. 

§  37.  It  is  the  purpose  and  aim  of  the  old  covenant  to  exhibit 
that  salvation  which  is  indeed  to  proceed  from  Israel  alone  and 
is  intended  for  Israel,  yet  not  for  Israel  alone  but  in  him  for  all 
nations.  From  this  twofold  point  of  view  we  gather  at  what 
period  salvation  shall  make  its  appearance,  and  with  it  the  liis- 
tory  of  the  old  covenant  close.  That  fulness  of  time  in  which 
the  two  series'  of  development — the  Jewish  and  the  heathen — 
with  their  fruits  and  results  meet  and  unite  to  produce  a  Christian 
and  all-comprehensive  culture,  presupposes  that  an  objective  and 
subjective  development  have  at  one  and  the  same  time  attained 
to  maturity.  As  in  Judaism  so  in  Heathenism  that  wliich  each 
had  to  exhibit — the  one  salvation,  the  other  science — must  have 
attained  to  such  a  degree  of  matm-ity  as  is  requisite  if  the  meet- 
ing of  the  two  is  to  lead  to  appropriate  results.  Again,  viewing 
it  subjectively  both  Jews  and  heathens  must  have  become  meet, 
or  rather  everjrthing  must  have  taken  place  by  which  they  might 
be  rendered  meet  for  individually  receiving  salvation.  Then 
have  both  Heathenism  and  Judaism  reached  their  destination, 
and  if  either  of  them  should  seek  to  continue  any  longer  it  has 
lost  its  Divine  sanction  and  with  it  its  import  in  the  liistory  of 
the  world.  Henceforth  it  is  only  a  dead  body  from  wliich  the 
living  sold  has  fled — nor  is  there  other  hope  left  for  it  but  this, 
that  when  the  breath  of  life  shall  breathe  on  the  dead  bones  that 
they  may  return  to  life  (Ezek.  xxxvii.)  it  also  shall  arise  and 
become  part  and  member  of  the  living  body. 


A.— THE  SCENE  OF  THE  HISTOKY  OF  THE  OLD 
COVENANT. 
(Comp.  the  works  mentioned  in  §  15,  2.) 

BOUNDARIES  AND  NAME  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND. 

§  38.  Separated  from  the  great  mountain  chain  of  Western 
Asia,  and  like  an  advanced  post  to  oppose  the  irruptions  of  the 

VOL.   I.  I 


130  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  38.) 

Mediterranean,  a  mountain  tract  rises  from  the  valley  of  the 
Eleiitherus,  extending  eastward  to  the  wilderness  of  the  Eu- 
phrates, southward  to  that  of  Arabia,  and  westward  to  the 
Mediterranean.  The  first  and  most  northerly  division  of  that 
country  includes  two  parallel  mountain-chains  extending  from 
north  to  south-west,  embracing  in  the  west,  Lebanon,  which  de- 
scends in  many  gi'adations  from  the  snow  line  to  the  valley  of 
the  Leontes,  which  above  Tp-e  flows  into  the  sea ;  and  in  the 
east,  Anti-Lebanon,  which  stretches  farther  south,  and,  in  the 
snow-covered  Great  Hermon,  attains  a  height  of  more  than  ten 
thousand  feet.  Between  these  extends  the  valley  el-Bukd'a — 
some  hours  broad, — the  ancient  Ccelesyiia,  from  which  in  a 
southerly  direction  the  Leontes  and  in  a  northerly  the  Orontes 
flows  into  the  sea.  At  the  foot  of  Hermon,  but  separated  from 
the  valley  el-Biika  a  by  a  low  mountain-chain  running  parallel  to 
Hermon,  commences  the  Jordan  valley,  wMch  divides  the  southern 
continuation  of  this  mountain-chain  longitudinally  also  into  two 
parallel  mountain-ridges,  running  from  north  to  south.  This 
country,  on  both  banks  of  the  Jordan,  bounded  on  the  east  by 
the  desert  of  the  Euphrates,  on  the  south  by  that  of  Arabia,  on 
the  west  by  the  Mediterranean,  on  the  north-west  by  the  valley 
of  the  Leontes,  and  on  the  north-east  by  Hermon  (1),  was  the 
scene  of  our  history  and  the  place  where  all  the  institutions  pre- 
paratory to  salvation  were  enacted.  The  central  part  of  this 
country,  its  western  division  (2),  bore  the  name  of  Canaan  from 
its  former  inhabitants.  Since  the  time  of  the  Komans  the  whole 
country  has  been  called  Palestine. 

(1.)  Comp.  C.  Iken  diss.  iii.  dejinibus  terrae  promissae  ii.  95 
and  following,  and  L.  de  Laborde  comment,  geogr.  sur  I'exode  et 
les  nombres.  Paris  1841  ad  Num.  xxxii.  xxxiv.  For  a  geogra- 
phically accurate  indication  of  the  boundaries  of  the  land  assigned 
to  the  people  of  God  v.  Numbers  xxxiv.  1,  &c.,  with  which  for 
the  eastern  division  comp.  Num.  xxxii.  33—42,  and  Joshua  xiii. 
1,  &c.  According  to  these  passages  the  country  east  of  Jordan 
extended  southwards  to  the  banks  of  the  Arnon,  while  the 
country  west  of  Jordan  stretched  from  the  southern  shore  of 
the  Dead  Sea  to  the  river  of  Egypt  or  the  Wady  el-'Arish  (in 
Coptic  auradsh  =  boundary),  called  by  the  Greeks,  Rliinocorura. 
It  is  more  difficult  to  trace  the  northern  boundary.  According 
to  Joshua  xiii.  5.  6,  and  Num.  xxxiv.  8,  all  Lebanon,  together 


BOUNDARIES  AND  NAME  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  38.)        131 

with  the  country  of  the  Sidonians,  from  Hor  (probably  ==  "^pj  = 

Hermon)  till  you  come  to  Hamath,  formed  part  of  the  territory 
of  Israel.  The  expression  "till  you  come  to  Hamath"  is  probably 
meant  to  indicate  the  northern  part  of  the  Orontes  valley,  el- 
Biikaa,  which  forms  tlie  northern  entrance  to  the  country. 
Hamath  is  either  the  modern  Hamah  on  the  Orontes  (the 
'  ETTicfxlveta  of  the  Greeks),  comp.  Burkhardt's  travels  i.,  p.  249  and 
following-,  or  Hums,  lying  a  few  miles  to  the  south  of  it,  called 
by  the  Greeks  Emesa.  It  follows  that  properly  the  whole  moun- 
tain-range which  we  have  above  traced,  including  the  two 
Lebanons,  which  with  Palestine  forms  an  organically  connected 
whole,  was  originally  destined  for  and  given  to  the  Israehtes, 
^vith  the  exception  only  of  the  barren  wilderness  south  and  east. 
This  territory  they  never  wholly  possessed.  Gen.  xv.  18  (comp. 
Ex.  xxiii.  31,  and  Dent.  xi.  22 — 24)  seems  to  promise  a  still 
greater  extent  of  country,  from  the  Nile  in  the  west  to  the 
Euphrates  in  the  east.  In  opposition  to  Iken  and  Laborde  we 
maintain  that  the  river  of  Egupt  means  the  Nile,  and  may  not 
be  confounded  with  the  rivulet  of  Egypt  or  the  Wady  el-'Arish. 
But  against  Hengstenherg  we  hold  that  the  ]3assage  in  question 
is  not  meant  to  give  an  exact  geographical  account  of  the  boun- 
daries. In  perfect  accordance  with  the  prophetic  contents  of 
that  passage  the  general  extent  of  the  laud  of  promise  as  situated 
between  the  two  great  historical  rivers,  or  rather  between  the 
two  empires  which  they  represent,  is  there  dehneated.  Accord- 
ing to  this  promise  the  country  which  the  seed  of  Abraham  was 
to  possess  would  be  of  such  importance  as  to  maintain  its  inde- 
pendence by  the  side  of  the  powerful  Egypt,  and  the  still  more 
vast  Asiatic  empues — and  all  other  nations  and  empires  wliich 
might  rise  between  these  two  great  monarcliies  would  either  be 
unable  to  maintain  tliemselves,  or  else,  on  account  of  tlieir  insig- 
nificance not  deserve  special  mention. 

(2.)  The  NAME  OF  Canaan  '5^33  (=  low  country)  is  always 

exclusively  applied  to  the  country  west  of  Jordan.  It  is  as  much 
the  name  of  tlie  i^eoplc  as  of  the  country.  The  strange  circiuu- 
stance  that  a  land  so  decidedly  mountainous  should  obtain  such 
a  name  becomes  only  intelligible  by  the  historical  statement  in 
the  table  of  nations  Gen.  x.  15 — 19,  according  to  which  the 
Canaanites  had  first  settled  in  the  low  country  of  Fhcenecia, 
whence  they  gradually  spread  to  the  Dead  Sea.  The  name 
TlaXaiaTivT]  sc.  ^vpia  is  the  Greek  mode  of  pronouncing  the 
Avord  ]-|\2J^r)  A\hich  originally  applied  to  the  territory  of  the 

Philistines  along  the  southern  shore  of  the  Mediterranean,  but 
was  extended  by  the  Komans  to  the  whole  country  (comp. 
Ptolem.  V.  16 :  "  Palestine,  which  is  also  called  Judea.")     In  the 

i2 


132  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  39.) 

Bible  the  following  names  also  occur :  the  land  of  the  Hebrews, 
Gen.  xl.  15  ;  the  Lord's  land,  Hosea  ix.  3  ;  the  holy  land,  Zech. 
ii.  12 ;  the  coast,  or  the  land  of  Israel,  Judges  xix.  29  ;  Ezek. 
vii.  2 ;  the  land  of  promise,  Heb.  xi.  9. 


THE  JORDAN  VALLEY. 

(Comp.  W.  F.  Lynch,  Keport  of  the  Expedition  of  the  United 
States  to  the  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea ;  K.  Bitter  s  Georgr.  vol. 
XV.  (1.)  ) 

§  39.  The  Jordan  vaUey  commences  at  the  foot  of  Hermon, 
and  runs  parallel  with  the  sea-shore,  at  about  eight  geographical 
miles  to  the  east  of  it,  from  north  to  south  between  the  two 
mountain  chains  wliich  issue  from  Lebanon.  The  deep  depres- 
sion of  the  vaUey  below  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  the  abrupt  rise 
of  its  mountain  sides,  induce  enquirers  to  account  for  the  pecu- 
liarity by  some  volcanic  disturhance  which  had  taken  place  at  a 
period  anterior  to  history  (2.)  Jordan  itself  issues  at  the  foot 
of  Great  Hermon  from  tkree  or  four  som-ces,  which  imite  in 
Lake  Merom,  a  beautifid,  deep  hoUow  in  the  vaUey  (3.)  From 
the  mountains  which  enclose  this  lake,  the  Jordan  falls,  and 
rapidly  flows  for  about  two  geographical  miles,  to  pour  its  waters 
into  the  charming  Alpine  lake  of  Gennesareth  (4.)  Issuing  from 
this  lake,  wliich  is  fringed  and  shut  in  by  high  and  fertile  moun- 
tains, the  Jordan  takes  innumerable  bends  and  windings,  forms 
twenty-seven  larger,  and  about  eighty  smaller  waterfalls,  and 
very  rapidly  passes — ha^dng  gained  a  breadth  of  from  thirty  to 
seventy  paces — through  the  Jordan  valley,  the  el-Ghor,  a  valley 
thirteen  German  miles  long,  and,  on  an  average,  about  two  hours 
broad,  and  shut  in  by  steep  and  bare,  calcareous  mountains  (5), 
and  then  flows  into  the  Dead  Sea,  a  deep  hoUow,  in  a  vaUey 
surrounded  by  steep  and  naked  rocky  mountains,  which  occa- 
sionally rise  to  a  height  of  2500  feet  (6.)  On  both  sides  a  num- 
ber of  wadys  and  defiles,  which  intersect  the  liigh  lands,  carry 
the  streamlets  from  the  mountains,  either  to  the  Ghor  or  to  the 
Dead  Sea.  But  for  three-fourths  of  the  year,  these  wadys  are 
dry,  and  indeed  are  only  filled  with  water  during  the  rainy  sea- 


THE  JORDAN  VALLEY.    (§  39.)  133 

son.  Perennial  streams  flow  into  the  Jordan  only  from  the  eastern 
high  lands  (vide  §  42.)  It  is  at  present  imjjossible  to  determine 
whether  the  valley  of  the  Jordan,  together  with  the  southern 
portion  of  the  Ghor  (the  Arabah),  had  at  one  time  (before  his- 
torical records  existed)  been  filled  with  water,  and  thus  the 
waters  of  the  Jordan  flowed  into  the  Ked  Sea  (7.) 

(1.)  However  often  the  Holy  Land  had  formerly  been  visited, 
the  course  of  the  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea  had  never  been  pro- 
perly investigated,  and  attempts  to  navigate  hoth  have  only 
been  made  within  the  last  twenty  years.  The^'rs^  attempt  was 
made  in  1835  by  Mr  Costigan.  In  a  small  open  boat,  which 
was  conveyed  from  the  Mediterranean  to  Tiberias,  and  only  ac- 
companied by  one  Maltese  servant,  he  made  the  bold  and  almost 
romantic  attempt  to  navigate  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea.  But 
he  succimibed  under  the  terrible  heat,  the  continuous  labour  of 
rowing,  and  the  want  of  provisions.  His  servant  was  obHged 
to  hasten  to  Jericho  for  assistance,  leaving  his  master  half  dead 
on  the  shore.  He  was  carried  to  Jerusalem,  where  he  died  after 
a  few  days.  Having  only  left  illegible  short  notes  of  his  journey 
around  the  margin  of  some  of  his  books,  the  results  of  an  under- 
taking, so  dearly  purchased,  were  wholly  lost.  (2.)  Two  years 
afterwards,  Messrs  Moore  and  Beek  renewed  the  attempt.  But 
impediments  tluown  in  their  way  by  the  authorities,  and  the 
refusal  of  the  Arabs  to  assist,  forced  them  to  abandon  the 
undertaking.  A  few  measurements  were  the  only  residt  of  it. 
Schubert^  who  soon  after,  from  Jericho,  visited  the  Dead  Sea, 
was  not  a  little  surprised  to  descry  on  its  waters  a  small  boat 
adrift,  betiring  the  British  flag.  (3.)  The  expedition  under 
Major  Scott  and  Lieutenant  Symonds,  sent  by  the  British  Ad- 
miralty to  survey  the  coast  of  S}Tia,  attempted  also  (in  1841), 
under  the  direction  of  Lieutenant  Symonds,  an  investigation  of 
the  Dead  Sea.  Hitherto  only  tlie  principal  results,  bearing  re- 
ference to  the  measurement  of  level  and  of  depth,  have  been  pub- 
lished. (4.)  In  1847,  Lieutenant  Molyneaux  had  his  ship's  boat 
conveyed  by  camels  from  the  Bay  of  Acre  to  the  Lake  of  Tiberias, 
and,  tor  the  first  time,  not  only  succeeded  in  navigating  Jordan 
and  the  Dead  Sea,  but  made  a  tour  which  rendered  essential  service 
to  science.  Althougli  all  his  sailors  had  fled  to  Tiberias  on  ac- 
count of  the  attacks  of  Bedouins  near  Jericho,  he  was  not  deterred 
from  prosecuting  his  undertaking.  With  only  two  companions, 
who,  however,  were  ignorant  of  navigation,  he  explored  the  Dead 
Sea.  But  the  immense  fatigues  of  the  journey  exhausted  even 
his  vigorous  constitution.  He  returned  to  Beyi'out  completely 
worn  out,  and  died  before  he  could  scientificallv  elaborate  tlie 


134  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  39.) 

observations  he  had  made.  (5.)  The  last  and  most  successfiil 
navigation  was  tliat  made,  at  the  instance  of  the  United  States 
Government,  under  the  direction  of  Commander  L}nnch,  in  1848. 
With  two  iron  boats,  which  were  conveyed  by  camels  fi'om  Acre 
to  Tiberias,  Lynch  commenced,  on  the  10th  April,  the  navigation 
of  the  Jordan,  and  nine  days  after,  that  of  the  Dead  Sea,  where 
he  remained  for  twenty-two  days.  At  the  same  time,  a  caravan, 
under  the  command  of  Lieutenant  Dale,  explored  the  western 
bank  of  the  river.  When  returning  through  the  valley  of 
Kedron  to  Jerusalem  and  Jaffa,  the  comparative  levels  of  the 
Mediterranean  and  the  Dead  Sea  were  ascertained.  The  im- 
portant results  of  this  expedition  were  communicated  to  the 
Admiralty  of  the  United  States,  with  the  intention  that,  previous 
to  their  official  puljlication,  they  should  be  scientifically  elabo- 
rated. But  v/heu  Mr  Montague,  one  of  the  members  of  that  ex- 
pedition, published  a  popular  and  superficial  account  of  this  in- 
teresting journey  (Philadelphia,  1849),  Commander  Lynch  felt 
obliged  to  anticipate  the  i)roposed  full  and  scientific  description 
by  giving,  in  the  meantime,  a  correct  account  of  his  journey,  in 
a  style  adapted  for  the  public  generally  (London,  1849.) 

2.  On  the  fall  of  land,  in  which  the  Jordan  valley  must 
have  originated,  comp.  G.  H.  v.  Schubert,  Cosmos,  Erlang., 
1852,  p.  261 : — "  Where  the  hollows  on  the  surface  of  the  globe 
(which  arose  when  it  was  formed)  approached  each  other  most 
closely,  where  its  vaults  came  out  more  distinctly  from  among 
the  vast  continuous  mass  of  its  surface,  there  these  vaults  some- 
times fell  in,  and  the  hollow  which  had  formerly  lain  below  the 
surface  of  the  soil  became  a  longitudinal  or  caulch-on-valley.  It 
Avas  such  a  faU  of  these  vaults  above  former  subterranean  hollows 
and  caverns  which  gave  to  the  bed  of  the  Jordan  a  depression 
unique  among  all  otliei'  similar  phenomena  on  our  planet."  This 
savant  was  the  first  to  call  public  attention  to  the  unexampled 
DEPRESSION  of  the  Valley  of  the  Jordan,  of  the  lake  of  Tiberias, 
and  of  the  Dead  Sea.  But  his  measurements,  for  which  his 
former  long  journeys  through  the  wilderness  had  only  left  him 
one  barometer,  and  that  one  defective,  are  not  so  accurate  or  re- 
liable as  might  be  desired.  But  in  general  his  observations  were 
confirmed  by  the  careful  measurements  of  Russegger  and  Bertou, 
;is  well  as  by  the  sm-veys  of  Symonds.  No  doubt  the  most  re- 
liable measm-ements  were  those  made  by  Lynch,  who  had  the 
best  instruments,  the  most  able  assistance,  and  most  leisure  at 
his  command.  The  depression  of  the  valley  commences  at  the 
bridge  of  Jacob,  half  an  hour  below  the  place  where  the  Jordan 
issues  from  Lake  Merom.  Here  the  ri^^er  is  on  a  level  with  the 
Mediterranean.  Thence  it  falls  so  rapidly  that,  after  a  course 
of  about  twelve  hours,  the  surface  of  the  sea  of  Tiberias  is,  ac- 


THE  JORDAN  VALLEY.    (§  39.)  135 

cording  to  the  measurement  of  Lynch,  653  feet  below  the  level  of 
the  Mediterranean.  The  depression  of  the  Dead  Sea  amounts  to 
1235  feet,  so  that  where  the  Dead  Sea  attains  its  lowest  depth,  it 
is  24G2  feet  below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  3800  feet 
lower  than  the  mountain  chains  which  surround  it. 

(3.)  Jordan  (it^ih  =  the  flowing  down,  called  by  the  Arabs 

Sherta,  or  Shertat  el  Kebir,  i.e.,  the  great  place  of  watering) 
7'ises,  according  to  the  statement  of  the  ancients,  from  two  som'ces, 
near  the  town  of  Paneas  (the  modern  Banias),  at  the  southern 
base  of  Hermon.  One  of  these  sources,  the  Nahr  Banias,  rises  in 
a  large  cavern,  hollowed  in  the  side  of  a  perpendicular  rock. 
The  other,  called  by  Josephus  i\\e  fountain  of  Dan,  or  also  Little 
Jordan,  rises  at  the  Tell-el-Kady,  to  the  W.N.W.  of  Banias, 
and  joins  the  Nahr  Banias  about  an  horn-  below  the  Tell.  But 
there  is  a  tldrd  source  of  the  Jordan,  near  Hasbeiya,  at  the  north- 
western base  of  Hermon,  which  suppKes  a  iiuich  larger  quantity 
of  water  than  the  Nahr  Banias,  although  the  ancients  do  not 
mention  it.  It  is  called  the  Nahr  Hashdny  (Hasbeiya).  The 
Nahr-el-Kharab,  to  tlie  west  of  this  source,  which  comes  from 
the  beautiful  valley  Merdj'  Ayuu,  and  joins  the  Nahr  Hasbeiya, 
is  commonly  regarded  as  'd  fourth  source  of  the  Jordan.  After 
having,  for  a  short  time,  flowed  separately  through  the  broad  plain 
Ard-el-Huleh  (prubably  the  same  as  the  "  valley  of  Lebanon 
under  Mount  Hermon,"  Josh.  xi.  17)  the  two  j)rincipal  streams 
(the  Nahr  Banias  and  the  Nahr  Hasbany)  join  their  waters  in 
Lake  3Ierom  (q'^-^t^  "^y^  '^^  upper  waters,  called  now  Balir  el- 

Huleh).  Altliough  the  waters  of  Hermon  abundantly  supply 
this  lake,  its  rapid  descent  renders  it  in  summer  soon  dry,  when 
it  resembles  a  marsh  covered  with  reeds. 

(4.)  Lake  Gennesaretii  is  so  called  from  the  shores  -^DDil 

(Chald.,  probably  =  garden  land,  country  of  gardens)  around  it, 
and  designated  in  the  Old  Testament  "  the  sea  of  Chinnereth," 
Josh.  xiii.  27  ;  Numbers  xxxiv.  11  ;  or  of  Chinneroth,  Josh.  xi. 
2  (from  -^^33  cithara,  from  the  sound  of  its  falling  waters),  and 

in  the  New  Testament  as  the  "  sea  of  Galilee,"  Matt.  xv.  29,  and 
"  the  sea  of  Tiberias,"  John  vi.  1  ;  at  present,  Bahr  Tiibariyeh.  It 
is  somewliat  mure  thnn  eleven  geographical  miles  lung,  and  from 
five  to  six  miles  broad. ^  Its  limpid  waters  are  full  of  fish.  Its 
neighbourhood  is  charming,  rich,  and  fertile.  It  belongs  to  the 
most  attractive  spots  on  the  earth,  nor  is  there  any  part  of 
Palestine  which  for  beauty  can  be  compared  with  it. 

(5.)  The  valley  between  Lake  Tiberias  and  the  Dead   Sea, 
called  at  present  the  El-Gh6r,  was  the  "plain  of  Jordan,"  or 

^  T'.  tli<^  nieasureinciits  nf  T/vnch  nw\  I\o))in<aon, — The  Tr. 


136  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  39.) 

simply  the  plain  of  Gen.  xiii.  10,  11,  12,  &c.,  and  "  tlie  region 
round  about  Jordan"  (Matt.  iii.  5)  of  the  LXX.  and  the  New 
Testament.  The  name  Ha  Arahah,  which  at  present  applies 
only  to  the  southern  part  of  the  valley  from  the  Dead  to  the  Ked 
Sea  (Wady  el  Arabah),  included  in  the  Old  Testament  also  the 
Grhor  (comp.  Eobinson,  ii.,  p.  186.)  As  to  the  meaning  of  the 
word  Arahah,  comp.  Hengstenherg ,  Balaam,  p.  231,  &c.  The 
chmate  of  the  Ghor  is  hotter  than  that  of  any  other  part  of 
Palestine,  on  account  of  the  steep  and  rocky  mountains,  which 
compress  the  heat,  and  prevent  the  westerly  winds  from  cooling 
the  air.  Under  these  circmustances,  when  left  without  cultiva- 
tion, it  became  a  dry  parched  wilderness.  In  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Dead  Sea  stretches  the  plain  of  Jericho  (the  plain  of  the 
valley  of  Jericho,  Deut.  xxxiv.  3,  or  the  plains  of  Jericho,  Josh, 
iv.  13)  at  present  a  barren  and  uncultivated  track,  but  capable 
of  great  fertility,  and  formerly  an  ahnost  continuous  forest  of 
palms.  On  the  opposite  side  lie  the  plains  of  Moab,  Numb, 
xxii.  1.  Of  the  place  where  the  pilgrims  bathe,  near  Jericho, 
Lynch  wiites  as  follows  (1.  c,  p.  264,  &c.)  : — "  Notwith- 
standing the  most  diligent  inquuy,  I  could  procure  no  infor- 
mation to  be  relied  on,  respecting  the  river,  in  Tiberias.  To 
my  consternation,  I  soon  found  that  the  Jordan  was  inter- 
rupted in  its  course  by  frequent  and  most  fearful  rapids.  .  .  . 
We  had  to  clear  out  old  channels,  to  make  new  ones,  and  some- 
times, placing  our  sole  trust  in  Providence,  plunged  with  head- 
long velocity  do^vn  appalling  descents.  So  great  were  the 
difficulties,  that  on  the  second  evening  we  were  in  a  direct  Hue 
but  12  miles  distant  from  Tiberias.  On  the  third  morning  I 
was  obliged  to  abandon  the  frame  boat  from  her  shattered  con- 
dition. No  other  kind  of  boats  in  the  world  than  such  as  we 
have,  combining  great  strength  with  buoyancy,  coidd  have  sus- 
tained the  shocks  they  encountered The  great 

secret  of  the  depression  between  Lake  Tiberias  and  the  Dead  Sea 
is  solved  by  the  tortuous  course  of  the  Jordan.  In  a  space  of 
sixty  miles  of  latitude  and  four  or  five  of  longitude,  the  Jordan  tra- 
verses at  least  200  miles.  The  river  is  in  the  latter  stage  of  a  freshet 
— a  few  weeks  earlier  or  later,  and  passage  would  have  been  im- 
practicable. As  it  is,  we  have  plunged  do^vn  twenty-seven  tlu-eat- 
ening  rapids,  besides  a  great  many  of  lesser  magnitude."  Lynch 
found  that  the  depth  of  the  river  varied  from  two  to  twelve  feet. 
The  level  of  the  water  seemed  to  fall  every  day  two  feet.  In  the 
Dead  Sea  a  decrease  of  seven  feet  from  what  in  that  year  had  been 
its  highest  level  was  distinctly  noticeable.  The  Jordan  sm-rounds 
also  a  number  of  little  islands.  Lynch  discovered  on  either  side 
many  larger  or  smaller  tributaries  which  had  not  previously  been 
marked  on  any  map. 


THE  JORDAN  VALLEY.    (§  39.)  137 

(6.)  The  Dead  Sea  (mare  mortuum  Justin.  36,  3.  6  ;  daXaacra 
r]  veKpd  Pans.  5,  7.  3),  is  called  in  tlie  Bible  nSsH  D^>  ^^^^  Salt- 
sea  Gen.  xiv.  3 ;  '^^^^[^"Tii'n  D"^'  ^^^^  Eastern  Sea,  Ez.  xlvii.  18 ; 

"   '        :)  —     T 

Joel  ii.  20  in  opposition  to  the  Mediterranean  or  Western  Sea ; 
m"^i^n  D"'  ^^^^  *^^^  ^^  ^^^®  Arabah,  Dent.  iv.  49,  by  Josephus  and 
the  Classics  \i/u,vr]  'Aa-tpaXTCTi'i,  by  the  Arabs  Bahr  Lut.  For 
the  views  and  opinions  current  with  the  Romans,  compare  Jos. 
B.  jud.  iv.  8,  4 ;  Strabo  xvi.  p.  525  f.  ;  Phn.  n.  h.  v.  15 ;  Tac. 
hist.  V.  6,  7.  Little  was  known  about  the  Dead  Sea  up  to  the 
time  of  Bohinson,  who  was  the  first  to  make  careful  investigations 
about  its  situation,  nature,  and  constituents  (vol.  i.  509,  &c., 
ii.  187,  &c.)  In  this  respect  also  the  United  States  expedition 
under  Lyjich  commimicated  facts  as  important  as  they  are  sur- 
prising. According  to  the  measurements  of  Lynch  the  surface 
of  that  sea  is  1235  feet  below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean. 
Its  length  amounts  to  about  forty  geogr.  miles,  its  breadth,  which 
is  much  the  same  along  the  whole  of  its  extent,  to  between  seven 
and  nine  geogr.  miles. ^  It  lies  in  a  deep  cauldron,  surrounded  by 
almost  perpenchcular  rocks.  The  rays  of  the  sun  striking  into  this 
hollow  make  it  almost  intolerably  hot,  and  convert  the  tributaries 
of  the  sea  into  hot  vapours.  All  around  is  sterility  and  death- 
like solitude.  The  salt  marshes  along  its  shores,  the  overpower- 
ing heat,  and  the  vapours  which  ascend,  render  the  neighbourhood 
unhealthy.  But  the  tales  current  about  its  pestiferous  atmos- 
phere are  mere  fable.  Pieces  of  sulphur  and  nitre  scattered 
about,  hot  fountains,  &c.,  shew  the  volcanic  origin  of  the  district. 
On  an  average  the  water  of  tlie  lake  holds  from  24 — 2G  per  cent, 
of  different  sahs  in  solution  (Robinson  i.  514.)^  On  this  account 
(possihly  with  the  exception  of  some  species  of  shellfish)  no 
living  animal  can  exist  in  it.  The  southern  fourth  of  the  Dead 
Sea  is  separated  by  a  large  peninsula  which  from  the  eastern 
shore  stretches  into  the  sea  (the  el-Mesraa.)  Lynch  very  aptly 
compares  its  ap})earance  to  that  of  a  wing  spread  out.  K.  Hitter 
has  called  the  channel  between  this  peninsula  and  the  western 
shore,  which  is  two  or  tliree  miles  broad,  the  Lynch  channel  in 
honovu'  of  the  celebral  ed  explorer  of  that  name.  Lynch  himself 
gave  to  the  northern  cape  of  the  peninsidathe  name  Point  Costigan, 
and  to  the  southern  that  of  Point  Molpieaux,  in  honour  of  his  un- 
successful predecessors.  The  most  remarkable  result  of  LyncKs 
investigations  is  certainly  tliis,  that  the  Dead  Sea  consists  of  two 
very  different  portions,  separated  by  the  peninsula  el  Mesraa.   The 

1  The  author  eiToneously  represents  the  above  as  English  and  not  geogra- 
phical miles.  A  comparison  with  Lynch  and  Roliinson  will  show  the  mis- 
take whicli  we  have  also  corrected  in  regard  to  L.  Tiljerias. — The  'J'r. 

2  We  have  here  also  corrected  the  text. — The  Tr. 


138  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  39.) 

southern  part,  commencing  at  Point  Molyneaux,  comprises  about 
one-fourth  of  the  entire  extent  of  the  sea.  Its  greatest  depth  is 
sixteen  feet,  wliile  in  some  places  along  its  southern  margin  it 
scarce  measures  one  foot.  There  salt  marshes  everywhere  cover  the 
ground,  wlrich  is  heated  by  hot  springs  rising  from  beneath. 
The  northern  basin  on  the  other  hand  has,  along  the  whole  of  its 
extent  from  north  to  south,  commonly  a  depth  of  more  than  1000 
feet,  while  a  long  part  of  it,  to  the  north,  measured  no  less  than 
1227  feet.  Lynch  channel  is  also  very  shallow  along  its  southern 
portion.  This  difference  between  the  two  basins  proves  incon- 
testibly  that  the  origin  of  the  southern  belongs  to  a  different 
period,  and  must  be  traced  to  different  causes  from  those  of  the 
northern.  This  circumstance  affords  a  remarkable  confirmation 
of  the  account  in  Gi-en.  xix.,  according  to  wliich  a  catastrophe 
had,  dming  the  time  of  Abraham,  subverted  the  whole  district 
of  the  southern  valley  (the  valley  of  Siddim,  Gen.  xiv.  3;  xiii.  10.) 
Lynch  writes  on  this  subject  (p.  380)  :  "  Upon  ourselves  the 
result  is  a  decided  one.  We  entered  upon  this  sea  with  conflicting 
opinions.  One  of  the  party  was  sceptical,  and  another,  I  think, 
a  professed  unbeliever  of  the  Mosaic  account.  After  twenty-two 
days'  close  investigation,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  we  are  unanimous 
in  the  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the  scriptural  account  of  the 
destruction  of  the  cities  of  the  plain."  With  this  K.  Bitter  per- 
fectly agrees,  and  even  Ewald  (vol.  i.,  2d  ed.,  p.  636)  writes: 
"  The  buried  cities  must  have  stood  in  the  place  now  occupied 
by  the  southern  portion  of  the  Dead  Sea ;  the  bottom  there  is 
remarkably  shallow.  Only  the  larger  northern  basin,  wliich  is 
much  deeper,  had  existed  previous  to  the  last  great  revolution  in 
the  soil.  .  .  .  The  peninsula  looks  exactly  like  a  piece  of 
land  preserved  during  the  catastrophe"  (comp.  also  §  61.)  At 
the  south-western  border  of  the  Dead  Sea  Mount  Khasitm-  tisdum 
{i.e.  Nose-bridge  of  Sodom)  arises  to  a  height  of  from  100  to  150 
feet,  and  extends  two-and-half  hours  in  length.  The  main  body 
of  the  mountain  is  a  sohd  mass  of  roclv  salt  (Rohinson  ii.  108.) 
The  Salt  valley  of  2  Sam.  viii.  13  must  have  been  the  Ghor 
south  of  the  Dead  Sea,  which  bordered  on  tliis  salt  mountain. 
This  salt  valley  is  bounded  on  the  south  by  a  fringe  of  steep 
calcareous  rocks,  which  rise  to  a  height  of  upwards  of  100  feet,  and 
are  called  in  the  Bible  □"^^"^p^  {i.e.  scorpions.  Num.  xxxiv.  4.) 

"  The  SALT  in  the  Dead  Sea,"  says  Bitter  (1.  c.  p.  765),  "  and 
in  the  layers  of  rock  salt  in  its  neighbourhood,  is  one  of  those 
remarkable  phenomena  which  probably  could  only  be  accounted 
for  if  the  various  geognostic  circimistances  of  the  entire  crust  of 
the  earth  were  known  and  taken  into  account.  .  .  According 
to  the  most  recent  observations  three  great  -mlf  zones  extend 
through  the  north  of  Africa,  running  in  parallel  lines  through 


THE  JORDAN  VALLEY.    (§  39.)  139 

almost  the  wliole  of  its  extent  from  west  to  east.  The  most 
northern,  or  Algerian,  extends  to  the  southern  point  of  Sicily ; 
the  second  runs  from  the  date-zone,  Datt  or  Daumas  (which 
contains  a  good  deal  of  rock  salt) ,  to  Tripolis ;  the  third  com- 
mences on  the  islands  of  Cape  Verd.  The  salt  basin  at  the 
southern  end  of  the  Dead  Sea,  and  the  rock  salt  formations  of 
Usdum,  form  the  extreme  links  of  this  chain  as  drawn  toward 
the  north-east.  From  this  it  would  follow  that  the  rock  salt 
formation  at  the  southern  end  of  the  Dead  Sea  was  in  its  origin 
not  connected  with  the  plutonic  period  in  which  the  Ghor  sunk. 
That  connection,  although  pre-arranged,  was  only  accidental 
(secondary),  due  to  local  contact,  and  the  circumstance  that  the 
Dead  Sea  is  at  present  saturated  with  salt  was,  therefore,  not  due 
to  its  original  state.  The  garden  of  the  PentapoKs  till  you  come 
to  Zoar  (Gen.  xiii.  10,  or  the  valley  of  SidcUm  Gen.  xiv.  3),  com- 
pared to  the  garden  of  Egyjit  (watered  by  the  Nile)  was,  therefore, 
at  that  period  not  watered  by  a  salt  lake,  which  would  have 
destroyed  all  vegetation,  but  fertilised  by  sweet  waters  that 
caused  the  neighbourhood  to  be  clothed  with  richest  verdure." 

(7.)  Formerly  it  was  usually  assumed  that  the  Bead  Sea  had 
only  existed  since  the  destruction  of  Sodom,  and  that  previous  to 
that  event  the  waters  of  the  Jordan  had  flowed  through  the 
Arabah  into  the  gulf  of  'Akabah.  Robinson  was  the  first  to 
shew  the  improbability  of  the  former  (ii.  188),  and  the  impossi- 
bility of  the  latter  supposition.  His  investigations  have  shewn 
that  in  the  middle  of  the  Arabah,  a  few  miles  from  the  gulf  of 
'Akabah,  a  water  shed  intervenes  between  it  and  the  Dead  Sea. 
The  discovery  of  the  great  inequality  existing  between  the  level 
of  these  two  seas  has  given  undoubted  certainty  to  the  views  of 
Kobinson.  But  it  is  another  question  whether  or  not  the  great 
valley  which  extends  from  Lebanon  to  Elah  may  not  in  pre- 
historic tunes  have  formed  the  bed  along  which  the  waters  of 
Lebanon  flowed  into  the  southern  ocean.  Eitter  decides  in 
favom-  of  the  probability  of  this  view  (xv.  773.)  Founding  on 
a  statement  of  Leopold  v.  Buck,  who  would  apply  here  also  his 
"elevation  theory,"  he  suggests  that  "the  porplmy  elevations 
with  the  Inyers  of  sandstone  on  their  back  winch  are  found  in 
the  middle  of  the  whole  eastern  portion  of  tlie  Wady  Ai-abah" 
may  have  been  accompanied  by  an  elevation  of  the  water  shed, 
forming,  as  it  Avere,  a  cross  bolt  in  the  long  valley,  and  that  the 
catastrophe  in  the  valley  of  Siddim  may  also  have  stood  in  some 
connection  with  it.  According  to  this  view  the  gulf  of  Elah 
would  originally  have  extended  to  Jcbel  el  Slieich  (Hermon.) 
But  "  such  an  elevation  of  the  soil,  which  it  is  well  known  may, 
during  centuries,  be  gradually  i)roduced  on  the  crust  of  the 
earth,  while  the  men  who  inhabit  the  soil  mav  not  be  aware  of 


140  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  40.) 

it,  might  long  before  the  memory  of  man  have  impeded  the 
original  course  of  Jordan  and  converted  it  into  a  sweet  lake" 
(which  had  Ly  gradual  evaporation  sunk  to  so  deep  a  level), 
"  until  the  catastrophe  (at  Sodom)  put  a  termination  to  the 
whole  process  by  a  sudden  and  terrible  explosion,  which  caused 
the  saltness  of  the  waters  (by  pouring  into  them  the  contents  of 
a  layer  of  rock  salt  which  was  then  brought  into  contact  with  it) 
and  the  consequent  devastation  of  the  neighbourhood."  But 
although  so  great  an  authority  is  in  favour  of  it  we  confess  our 
inabihty  to  believe  in  the  possibility  of  the  imperceptible  eleva- 
tion of  a  wliole  track  of  country  by  plutonic  agency.  The 
argmnents  of  A.  Wagner  (original  Hist,  of  the  World,  Leipzig 
1845)  have  completely  convinced  us  of  the  futility  of  the  whole 
hypothesis ;  and  we  therefore  regard  the  elevation  in  the  Arabah 
wliich  now  serves  as  water  shed,  as  ha^dng  been  formed  at  the 
same  time  with  the  Ghor.  If  this  view  is  correct  the  idea  of  a 
connection  between  the  waters  of  Lebanon  and  of  the  Bed  Sea 
of  com-se  falls  to  the  ground. 


THE  WESTERN  HIGHLANDS  OF  PALESTINE. 

§  40.  The  soil  of  the  country  west  of  Jordan  is  rich,  and  cap- 
able of  producing  a  variety  of  crops,  to  an  extent  unequalled 
within  the  same  narrow  limits  in  any  other  district.  The  high- 
lands west  of  Jordan,  which  commonly  rise  from  the  valley  of 
the  Jordan  to  a  height  of  from  2000  to  3000  feet,  and  gradually 
slope  down  tov/ards  the  shore  of  the  Mediterranean,  comprise  the 
second  and  third  portion  of  the  mountain  chain  which  com- 
mences with  Lebanon.  The  second  branch  of  this  chain,  form- 
ing the  highlands  of  Galilee  (1),  is  separated  from  Lebanon  by 
the  valley  of  the  Leontes,  and  from  the  south-western  termina- 
tion of  the  Great  Hermon  by  the  valley  Merj'-Ayun  (wliich 
is  traversed  by  the  western  source  of  Jordan.)  It  extends  south- 
ward about  twelve  German  miles  to  the  plain  of  Jezreel  (2), 
through  which  the  Kishon  flows  into  the  sea.  The  southern 
highlands,  which  run  into  the  desert  et-Tili  in  Arabia,  rise  from 
this  plain,  and  form  the  third  branch  of  the  chain  of  mountains 
to  which  we  have  referred.  The  northern  portion  of  it  is  called 
Mount  Ephraim  (3),  the  southern  the  mountains  of  Judah  (4.) 
The  highlands  of  Galilee  consist  of  wide  and  undulating  plains, 


THE  WESTERN  HIGHLANDS  OF  PALESTINE.    (§  40.)  141 

and  of  swelling  bills,  with  circular  deep  valleys,  of  volcanic 
origin.  Tlie  southern  highlands  have  not  so  many  of  these 
plains,  and  are  frequently  rent  by  steep  and  jutting  mountains, 
by  deep  chasms,  hollows,  and  caukbons ;  but  the  mountains  of 
Judah  have  a  greater  number  of  large  plains,  and  of  deep  and 
broad  valleys,  capable  of  cultivation,  than  the  mountains  of 
Ephraim.  A  straight  line  drawn  through  the  highlands  of 
Galilee,  over  Sychem  and  Jerusalem,  and  to  the  wilderness  of 
Arabia,  would  almost  indicate  the  water-shed  of  the  whole  high- 
lands west  of  Jordan. 


(1.)  The  following  are  the  most  marked  portions  of  the  high- 
lands OF  GrALiLEE.  From  the  upper  valley  of  the  Jordan  (north 
of  Lake  Gennesareth)  rise  abruptly  the  Mountcmis  of  Naphtali 
(Joshua  XX.  7),  called  at  present  Jebel-Safed,  to  a  height  of 
2500  feet,  and  form  a  sweeping  and  undidating  high  plain,  in 
the  form  of  a  triangle,  running  to  a  point  toward  the  south  (near 
the  town  of  Safed.)  The  north-western  side  of  this  triangle  rises 
from  the  valley  of  tlie  Leontes,  the  south-eastern  side  being 
formed  by  a  long  branch  running  down  from  the  white  Promon- 
tory (promontorium  album,  Kas-el-Abyad.)  Passing  southwards 
through  a  wild  mountainous  country,  we  reach  the  plain  of 
Zehulun  (el  Bettauf),  fringed  by  steej),  white,  calcareous  moun- 
tains, which  extend  from  east  to  west  to  a  breadth  of  from  two 
to  three,  and  a  length  of  from  tlu-ee  to  four  German  miles.  The 
soil  is  very  fertile,  but  at  present  completely  uncultivated.  At 
the  eastern  extremity  of  this  plain,  rises  what  is  known  as  the 
Mount  of  Beatitudes,  Kurun  el  Hattin,  i.e.,  the  horn  of  Hattin. 
The  waters  of  this  plain  fall  into  the  Kishon.  Still  farther  south- 
east, we  come  upon  the  deep  and  circular  plain  Ard  el  Hairima, 
shut  in  by  the  terminations  of  Tabor  and  the  mountains  along 
the  border  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  The  waters  of  this  plain  run 
into  tlie  Jordan.  Tlience  the  mountains  slope  gradually  towards 
the  west  into  the  plain  of  Acco,  and  more  abruptly  towards  the 
south-west  to  the  plain  of  Jezreel.  Towards  the  south-east  rises 
the  beautifvd  Mount  Tabor  {i.e.,  mountain-top,  at  present, 
Jebel  el-Tur),  a  calcareous  and  isolated  cone,  1748  feet  high. 
On  the  top  of  Tabor,  an  oval  and  level  plain  stretches  for  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  extent.  Toward  the  south  the  mountain 
extends  far  into  the  plain  of  Jezreel. 

(2.)  The  southern  slope  of  the  highlands  of  Galilee,  and  the 
northern  elevation  of  Mount  Ephraim,  are  intersected  by  three 
plains,  which  are  connected  among  themselves,  and  run  across 
the  highlands  west  of  Jordan,  from  the  sea-shore  to  the  banks 


142  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  40.) 

of  the  Jordan.  These  are — the  plain  of  Acco  by  the  sea,  the  plain 
of  Jezreel,  and  that  of  Bethshean,  wliich  stretches  towards 
Jordan.  The  plain  of  Jezreel,  or  of  Esdraelon  (Joshua  xvii, 
16,  at  present,  Merj'  Ibn  Amir)  is  exceedingly  fruitful.  It  is 
the  most  extensive  valley  of  Palestine.  Its  connection  with  the 
two  others  makes  it  the  most  open  plain  in  the  country.  Hence 
it  always  formed  the  central  point  of  military  evolutions.  Ac- 
cording to  the  barometrical  measurements  of  Schuherf,  it Jrises 
439  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  It  is  four  German  miles 
long,  and  from  two  to  three  German  miles  broad,  and  runs  to  a 
point  towards  the  south-east.  A  narrow  rocky  valley  to  the 
north-east,  which  runs  be1;jveen  the  base  of  Carmel  and  the'^pro- 
jecting  ledges  of  the  mountains  of  Zebulun,  connects  it  with  the 
plain  of  Acco.  The  Kislion  (Nahr  el-Mukatta),  which  rises  at 
the  foot  of  Tabor,  flows  through  the  whole  extent  of  these  two 
plains  into  the  sea.  At  the  north-eastern  termination  of  the 
plain  of  Jezreel  rise  Mount  Tabor  in  majestic  beauty,  and  south 
of  it,  running  from  east  to  west  for  about  two  German  miles,  the 
chain  of  hills  called  Little  Hermon  (Jebel  el-Dahy)  ;  still  far- 
ther south,  and  stretcliing  to  the  north-west.  Mount  Gilhoa 
(Jebel  Fekuah.)  A  rocky  elevation  forms  the  watershed,  and 
connects  the  western  terminations  of  these  two  mountains,  em- 
bracing at  the  same  time  the  plain  of  Bethshean,  which  extends 
to  the  banks  of  Jordan. 

(3.)  From  the  plain  of  Acco,  the  north-eastern  side  of  Mount 
Carmel  (Jebel  Mar  Elyas)  rises  abruptly  to  a  height  of  1500 
feet,  forming  a  fruitful  field,  the  hills  of  which  are  watered  by 
many  rills,  and  covered  successively  by  meadows,  with  their  rich 
bloom,  by  pleasant  valleys,  by  fruitful  vineyards,  oHve  groves, 
and  corn  fields.  It  runs  for  three  German  miles  (from  south- 
east to  north-west)  to  the  Mediterranean.  There  it  terminates 
in  a  promontory — ^bearing  the  same  name  (1200  feet  high) — in 
which  nature  has  formed  thousands  of  caverns,  which  have  served 
for  the  dwelling,  first  of  Troglodites,  and  then  of  monks.  The 
south-western  side  of  the  moimtain  slopes  into  the  plain  of 
Sharon.  As  Carmel  to  the  north-west,  so  Mount  Gilboa  to  the 
north-east,  forms  a  kind  of  advanced  post  of  Moltnt  Ephraim. 
The  latter  rises  abruptly  from  the  plain  of  Jezreel,  and  attains 
its  highest  elevation  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Sychem.  There 
the  valley  el-MeMina  (probably  the  same  as  nin?2'  ^^^^  place  of 

encampment  of  the  patriarchs),  which  runs  from  north  to  south, 
and  is  four  hours  long,  and  one  hour  broad,  forms  a  watershed. 
From  this  valley  numerous  wadys  run  in  all  directions,  and  often 
deeply  intersect  the  mountains.  Towards  the  north,  and  in  a 
somewhat  westerly  direction,  this  valley  is  connected  with  that 
of  Sychem.     Mount  Gerizim  rises  at  the  southern  side  of  the 


THE  WESTERN  HIGHLANDS  OF  PALESTINE.    (§  40.)  143 

valley  of  Sychem  to  a  height  of  2400  feet.     Opposite,  and  at  the 
northern  side  of  the  valley  of  Sychem,  stands  Mount  Ehal. 

(4.)  Mount  Ephraim  imperceptibly  merges  towards  the  south 
into  the  highlands  of  Judea.  The  mountains  of  Judah  (in  the 
narrower  sense  of  the  term)  form  the  central  part  of  this  district. 
The  south  country  of  Judea  descends  in  a  southerly  direction 
towards  the  desert  el-Tih  ;  the  wilderness  of  Judea  extends  east- 
ward towards  the  Dead  Sea.  To  the  west,  towards  the  sea,  the 
mountains  slope  into  the  plain  of  Sefelah,  while  to  the  north 
they  extend  into  the  possessions  of  Dan  and  of  Benjamin  (Josh, 
xi.  16.)  The  latter  is  a  mountainous  district,  on  either  side  fre- 
quently intersected  by  deep  chasms.  The  valleys  along  the 
western  slope  of  this  district  are  numerous,  extensive,  and  much 
ramified.  They  all  run  into  the  large  Wady  Serdr,  which  de- 
bouches into  the  sea  below  Joppa.  According  to  Kobinson  (vol. 
ii.,  p.  21),  the  valley  of  Terebyntlis  (1  Sam.  xvii.  2,  at  present, 
Wady  el-Siimt),  forms  the  extreme  south-eastern  arm  of  this 
wady.  The  valley  3Ienj'  Ihn  Omeir  runs  from  below  Beth- 
horon,  forming  a  long  arch  from  north-east  to  south-west,  and 
merges  into  Wady  Serar,  near  the  sea-shore.  By  the  side  of 
the  long  hill  which  encloses  this  beautiful  and  broad  valley  hes 
the  village  of  Yalo.  We  therefore  conclude  that  the  valley  in 
question  is  the  same  as  the  well-known  valley  of  Ajalon  (Josh. 
X.  12  ;  Bohinson,  vol.  ii.,  p.  253.)  The  valleys  which  run  to- 
ward the  east  join  near  Jericho  in  Wady  Kelt,  probably  the 
same  as  the  brook  Cherith  (1  Kings  xvii.  3  ;  Kob.,  vol.  i.,  558.) 
The  MOUNTAIN  OF  Judah  (Joshua  xv.  48)  reaches  its  liighest 
elevation  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Hebron.  The  city  of  that 
name  lies  in  a  A-alley,  connected  with  the  great  Wady  el-Khalil. 
It  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  hills,  and  lies  2700  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  The  mountain  ridge  is  about  eight  German 
miles  long,  and  about  two  German  miles  broad.  Compared  with 
Mount  Ephrauu,  which  is  so  frequently  intersected,  it  may  almost 
be  described  as  level.  Wady  el-Khalil  commences  north  of 
Hebron,  and  along  its  whole  extent  divides  the  mountain  ridge 
in  a  southern  direction,  then  turns  westwards  to  the  sea,  and 
bears  the  name  of  the  valley  of  Beersheba,  Wady  es-Seba.  The 
nnlderness  of  Judea  (Joshua  xv.  61)  is  formed  by  the  eastern 
descent  of  the  mountains,  where,  between  high  rocky  tracts, 
many  a  place  of  pastiu-age  is  found.  Then  it  descends  preci- 
pitately, being  intersected  by  many  chasms,  which  reach  to  the 
very  base  of  the  mountsiin,  and  terminates  at  the  Dead  Sea. 
From  Wady  Fikreh,  tlu"ough  which  the  waters  of  the  Arabian 
wilderness  that  flow  eastward  are  carried  to  the  Dead  Sea,  to 
that  dreary  and  desolate  rocky  chasm  through  which  the  brook 
Kidron  flows  from  Jerusalem  to  the  sea,  from  fifteen  to  eighteen 


144  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§41.) 

of  these  chasms  and  passes  have  been  traced.  The  largest  of 
these  is  the  pass  of  Hazezon-Tamar  or  Engedi  (Ain  Jidi),  2 
Chron.  xx.  2,  which  stretches  to  about  the  middle  of  the  Dead 
Sea.  Towards  the  south,  the  mountains  of  Judea  form  a  high 
wall,  tluough  wliich  only  one  door  opens  (the  Wady  el-Khalil)  ; 
to  the  west  also,  and  toward  the  southern  sea-shore,  they  form  a 
high  wall,  through  which  only  few  and  narrow  wadys  open. 
The  southern  declension  of  the  mountain  chains  to-u^ards  the 
wilderness  of  el-Tih,  which  is  also  called  the  mountain  of  the 
Ammorites  (Deut.  i.  7,  19,  20,  44),  bore  the  designation  of  the 
south  country  of  Judea  (Joshua  xv.  21.)  The  country  is  ter- 
raced, and  extends  from  six  to  eight  German  miles  in  breadth, 
rising  gradually  from  the  wilderness,  and  in  its  ascent  occasionally 
forming  broad  meadows.  It  surrounds  the  mountains  in  the 
shape  of  an  arch.  The  ascent  opens  by  the  pass  of  Zephath 
(Judges  i.  17,  at  present,  Nakb  es-Sefah.) 


THE  SEA-SHORE. 

§  41.  South  of  Tyre,  by  the  sea-shore,  rises  the  promontorium 
album  (Eas  el-Abyad),  and  still  farther  south,  along  with  the 
Ras  en-Nakurah,  the  rocky  shore  of  Tyrian  ladder.  Thence  the 
coast  becomes  more  flat,  and  round  the  arched  bay  of  Accho 
forms  the  beautiful  and  broad  plain  of  Accho,  where  the  Belus 
falls  into  the  sea.  South  of  this  plain,  where  Kishon  falls  into 
the  sea,  rises  Carmel,  the  high  and  steep  promontory  of  which 
reaches  so  close  to  the  water  that  only  a  narrow  road  along  the 
coast  is  left.  South  of  Carmel,  a  plain  commences,  which  is 
generally  very  fruitful,  and  extends  for  thirty  German  miles  to 
Wady  el-'Ai"ish,  the  boundary  Hne  between  Palestine  and  Egypt. 
This  plain  becomes  broader  as  it  runs  southwards,  so  that  near 
Joppa  it  is  four,  and  near  Gaza  six  miles  broad.  A  projecting 
hill,  near  Joppa,  bounds  its  northern  portion,  which  is  formed 
by  ihe  plain  Sharon  (1),  about  ten  German  miles  long.  From 
below  Joppa  to  Gaza  extends  the  plain  of  Sefelah  (2),  about 
eleven  German  miles  long.  South  of  Gaza  the  fertility  of  the 
coast  decreases,  and  long  before  the  traveller  reaches  the  'Ai'ish, 
he  passes  through  a  complete  wilderness, 

■  (1.)  Dm-ing  spring  the  plain  of  Sharon  is  fragrant  with 
flowers.     Its  splendour  and  fertihty  were  proverbial  (Is.  xxxv. 


THE  HIGHLANDS  EAST  OF  JORDAN.    (§  42.)  145 

2;  Song.  ii.  1.)  Only  small  brooks,  commonly  winter  torrents, 
flow  through  it  into  the  sea.  The  principal  of  these  are  the 
Nahr  Zerka  (called  by  Pliny  the  river  of  crocodiles),  south  of  it 
the  Nahr  Arsiif,  and  still  fartlier  soutli  the  Nahr  Audjeh.  The 
Nahr  el-Kassab,  probably  the  river  Kanah  of  Joshua  xvi.  8,  is 
a  tributary  of  the  Arsuf 

(2.)  The  plain  of  Sefelah  is  broad  and  fruitful.  Rocks  pro- 
ject towards  the  sea.  The  waters  of  AVady  Serar  flow  through 
Nahr  Rubin,  below  Joppa,  into  the  sea.  Farther  south,  near 
Askelon,  Wady  Simsim  debouches. 


THE  HIGHLANDS  EAST  OF  JORDAN. 

§  42.  The  country  east  of  Jordan,  called  in  the  Bible  the 
land  ofGilead^  or  the  country  on  the  other  side  of  Jordan  (1),  is  a 
mountainous  district,  extending  from  gi-eat  Hermon  (2)  all  along 
the  valley  of  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea.  Thence  it  continues  by 
the  name  of  mountain  of  the  Edomites  to  the  Grulf  of  'Akabah. 
Toward  the  west  it  rises  abruptly  from  the  Grhor,  to  a  height  of 
from  2000  to  3000  feet.  On  the  top  of  this  elevation,  a  vast 
sweeping  and  almost  uniform  level  plain  (3)  extends,  gradually 
sloping  eastwards  into  the  desert  steppes  of  the  Euphrates.  Ex- 
tensive oak  forests  alternate  there  with  pasturage.  The  waters 
of  the  highlands  east  of  Jordan  flow  into  the  Jordan  and  into 
the  Dead  Sea,  generally  through  deep  valleys,  Avliich  are  shut  in 
by  almost  perpendicular  mountain  sides. 

(1.)  Properly  speaking  the  name  Gilead  applied  only  to  the 
moimtain  of  that  name.  By  and  bye  it  was  also  used  to  desig- 
nate all  the  country  east  of  Jordan,  The  expression  "  on  the 
other  side  Jordan,"  as  designating  the  east  country,  arose  from 
the  circumstance  that  the  west  country  was  regarded  as  the 
central  part  of  the  land.  Hence  this  expression  was  also  em- 
ployed even  where  the  party  who  spoke  resided  in  the  east  country 
(comp.  Hengstenherg  Contrib.  iii.  313.)  Welte  (The  post- 
Mosaic  elements  of  the  Pentateuch,  p.  176)  accounts  for  the  use 
of  the  expression  in  the  above  circumstances  by  the  foct  that  the 
term  -y-yr)  may  apply  equally  to  "  this"  and  to  "  the  other  side" 

Jordan.  Hengstenherg  has  refuted  the  objections  which  that 
author  has  urged  against  the  view  which  we  have  above  men- 
tioned (Balaam  p.  27).  (Comp.  also  Keil,  Commentary  on 
Kings,  p.  5&.)   But  sometimes,  for  the  sake  of  greater  distinctness, 

VOL.   I.  K 


14f)  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (%  42.) 

tlie  term  \2J?:Dt2^  nnn'??D'  ^^'  others  of  similar  import,  are  em- 
ployed (for  ex.  Dent.  iv.  41 ;  Josh.  i.  15 ;  1  Chron.  vi.  63.) 
Occasionally  the  country  west  of  Jordan  is  designated  in  the 
Pentateuch  and  in  the  hook  of  Joshua — ^hut  only  in  these  writings 
— ^y  tll'T!  IDi^-  This  is  accounted  for  on  the  ground  that  at 
that  time  the  east  country  was  properly  the  home  of  the  Israehtes. 
If  the  east  country  is  in  Deuteronomy  designated  as  on  "the 
other  side,"  this  arises  from  the  circumstance  that  the  writer 
passed  from  the  suhjective  and  temporary  point  of  view  which  he 
then  occupied,  and  took  the  objective  and  permanent  stand-point 
of  the  fatm'e.     Comp.  Hengstenberg  11.  cc. 

(2.)  Great  Hermon,  Psa.  xlii.  7  (according  to  Arab  etymology 
=  mountain  top)  was  according  to  Deut.  iii.  9  called  by  the 
Sidonians  '?v*^\^%  and  by  the  Amorites  -^i^^y  (=  cuirass.)      At 

present  it  bears  the  name  Jebel  es-Sheikh,  or  that  of  el-Tseldsh 
(snow-mountain.)  This  enormous  mountain  ridge,  the  snow- 
covered  top  of  wliich  is  more  than  10,000  feet  high,  forms  the 
northermnost  boundary  of  the  country  east  of  Jordan.  Its  southern- 
most branch  is  Jebel  Heish,  which  runs  to  the  northern  shore  of 
the  sea  of  Gahlee  (perhaps  the  same  as  the  Sijon  of  Deut.  iv.  48.) 
(3.)  The  eastciii  high  plain  rises  only  on  two  points  to  the 
height  of  mountains,  \dz.,  in  the  north-east  as  Mount  Hauran, 
and  in  the  south-west  as  Mount  Gilead.  The  northern  portion 
of  these  higlilands  is  intersected  by  the  Yarmilk  or  Sheriat 
el-Mandahur  (called  by  Josephus  the  Hieromax) ,  wliich  carries 
the  waters  of  Mount  Hauran  through  narrow  and  deep  defiles 
into  the  Jordan,  an  hour-and-a-half  below  Lake  Gemiesareth. 
Six  German  miles  further  south,  the  foaming  waters  of  Jabbok 
or  Zerka  gush  thi-ough  a  narrow  defile,  500  feet  deep,  right  in 
the  middle  of  Mount  Gilead,  towards  Jordan.  Nahr  Ammon,  a 
tributary  of  Jabbok,  separated  the  land  of  promise  from  the 
territory  of  the  Ammonites.  The  brook  Heslihon,  Wady  Keshan, 
bursts  thi'ough  a  narrow  and  rocky  pass  and  debouches  into  the 
plain  of  Moab.  The  hrooh  Meon,  Wady  Zerka  Main,  flows  into 
the'  Dead  Sea ;  so  does  Arnon,  whose  deep  and  ahnost  perpendi- 
cularly cut  bed  formed  the  boimdary  between  the  land  of  Israel 
and  that  of  Moab.  The  country  wliich  stretched  north  and  south 
of  Mount  Gilead,  and  comprised  the  plain  of  Hauran  and  Mount 
Hauran  is  called  in  the  Bible  Bashan.  Tins  plain  has  many 
fertile  meadows  and  corn  fields ;  the  mountains  are  covered  with 
rich  forests.  Mount  Gilead,  the  highest  top  of  which  is  called 
Mount  el-Osha  (Hosea),  has  most  extensive  forests  of  oaks, 
and  great  abundance  of  olive  and  other  fruit  trees.  The  high 
plain  which  stretches  south  of  this  mountain  to  the  river  Arnon 
is  called  in  the  Bible  Hamishor  (Deut.  iii.  10),  i.e.  the  plain  (at 
present  designated  el-Belka,  a  district  which  includes  the  moun- 


ADAPTATION  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§  43.)        147 

tain  to  the  brook  Jabbok),  and  offers  the  richest  and  the  most 
extensive  pasturage. 


ADAPTATION  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND  FOR  ITS  PECULIAR  PURPOSES. 

(Comp.  K.  V.  Raumer,  Pal.  p.  88  and  following ;  Bertlieait,, 
Contrib.  to  the  Hist,  of  the  Isr.  p.  119  and  following;  Eioald, 
Hist.  i.  p.  258  and  following.  ;  J.  P.  Lange,  Life  of  Jesus  ii.  p.  24 
and  following.) 

§  43.  In  itself  and  in  its  relation  to  other  countries,  the  coun- 
try which  the  Lord  had  chosen  as  a  nursery  for  his  kingdom  was, 
from  its  soil  and  position,  better  adapted  for  tliis  purpose  than 
any  other  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  The  covenant-people  was  in 
the  organism  of  mankind  to  be  the  heart  of  the  nations.  There 
fresh  and  healthy  blood  was  to  be  prepared,  and  thence  it  was 
vigorously  to  circidate  through  all  manldnd,  everywhere  carry- 
ing with  it  renewed  youth  and  fresh  life.  Separated  and  shut 
out  from  other  nations,  Israel  was  under  the  quickening  influ- 
ence of  the  Divine  counsel  to  become  the  soil  where  the  germ  of 
future  salvation  was  to  be  deposited,  nourished,  and  matured, 
that  when  ripened  the  fruit  might  be  offered  to  all  nations  of 
the  earth.  But  the  relations  between  a  nation  and  its  country 
are  similar  to  those  between  body  and  soul  in  the  individual. 
Hence  the  land  of  Israel  must  have  been  suitable  for  the  purposes 
which  that  nation  was  to  serve.  If  Israel  was  to  unite  in  itself 
the  two  requisites  of  greatest  seclusion  from  all  other  nations  and 
yet  of  occupying  the  most  central  position  among  them,  the 
country  in  which  these  pm-poses  were  to  be  realised  must  have 
corresponded  to  them.  And  in  point  of  fact  Palestine  united  in 
itself,  in  an  unparalleled  and  wonderful  manner,  the  apparently 
opposed  characteristics  of  being  secluded  from,  and  yet  central 
to,  all  other  countries.  In  truth,  whether  viewed  geographically, 
politically,  or  commcrcicdly ,  Palestine  is  the  "umbilhcus  ter- 
rarum"  of  the  ancient  world.  Lying  right  in  the  middle  of  the 
three  then  known  parts  of  the  world  (1),  it  may  in  some  respects 
be  regarded  as  belonging  to  all  the  three.  From  this  central 
position  Palestine  became  also  the  central  point  of  all  p)olitical 
movements  and  of  the  commerce  of  the  ivorld  (2.)     On  the  other 

k2 


148  A.     THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  43.) 

hand  it  will  readily  be  perceived  that  the  Holy  Land  was  also 
almost  as  secluded  as  an  island.  South  and  east  inhospitable 
deserts,  to  the  west  the  sea,  shut  it  off  from  other  lands,  while 
Lebanon  on  the  north  bounds  it  by  an  almost  insurmountable 
wall,  stretching  from  the  sea  to  the  eastern  desert.  This 
characteristic  of  seclusion  appears  even  more  distinctly  and 
prominently  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  (as  is  abundantly  evident) 
the  highlands  west  of  Jordan  were  the  central  portion  of  the 
country,  assigned  to  the  covenant-people,  where  it  was  intended 
that  all  the  principal  events  in  its  liistory  should,  and  where  they 
actually  did,  take  place.  The  district  in  question  rises  like  a 
mighty,  lofty,  and  impregnable  rocky  fortress,  from  the  wilder- 
ness of  the  south,  from  the  sea  shore  in  the  west,  and  from  the 
deep  valley  in  the  east.  These  high  mountains,  with  their  steep 
rocky  sides,  their  chasms,  caverns,  and  defiles ;  these  high  plains, 
with  their  numberless  hills,  and  deep  valleys,  could  not  but  impede 
equally  the  destructive  progress  of  conquering  armies  and  the 
corrupting  influence  of  foreign  spiritual  elements.  On  the  other 
hand — despite  the  niunerous  population  which  inhabited  these 
valleys,  and  the  continual  intercourse  and  interchange  all  around 
— the  peculiarities  of  the  country  would  also  offer  special  advan- 
tages for  the  quiet,  undisturbed,  organic  development  of  all  the 
powers  and  faculties  inherent  in,  or  bestowed  upon,  the  peculiar 
and  independent  culture  of  its  inhabitants,  both  in  its  social, 
moral,  and  religious  aspects.  Like  the  people,  the  land  of  Israel 
may  be  compared  to  a  vineyard  well  fenced  in,  watched  over,  and 
planted  (Isa.  v.  1),  where  everything  had  been  done  that  could 
be  done. 

(1.)  To  this  central  situation  of  the  land  of  promise,  Ezekiel 
V.  5  (compare  Lament,  ii.  15)  also  refers.  In  our  opinion  this 
interpretation  of  the  passage  is  not,  according  to  Calvin  and 
Hdvernick  ad.  h.  1. ,  a  childish  Kabbinical  fancy  unworthy  of  the 
prophet.  We  hold  that  the  ethical  meaning  of  the  verse,  which 
Havernick  advocates,  does  not  exclude,  but  includes,  its  physical 
application.  Comp.  also  the  appropriate  remarks  of  Theodoret 
on  the  passage  in  question. 

(2.)  All  the  routes — both  by  water  and  by  land — which  con- 
nected the  tln-ee  parts  of  the  ancient  world,  passed  tlirough 
Palestine.  The  commerce  between  Asia  on  the  one,  and  Europe 
and  Africa  on  the  other  hand,  had  its  centre  in  the  gi-eat  mer- 


ADAPTATION  OF    I'HE  HOLV  LAND.    (§  44.)  14l» 

cautile  cities  of  Phenicia  and  Philistia.  Toward  the  south  the 
Araba  led  to  the  Gulf  of  Elath,  and  the  8efelah  to  that  of 
Heroopolis,  wliile  toAvard  the  east  the  ordinary  caravan  road  led 
to  the  neighbouring-  Euphrates,  to  the  Persian  Gulf,  and  thence 
to  the  important  countries  of  southern  Asia.  Even  the  high- 
ways which  connected  Asia  and  Africa  touched  Palestine.  A 
much  frequented  commercial  route  led  from  Eg}'pt  to  Gaza,  and 
from  Damascus  over  the  plain  of  Jezreel  to  the  Phenician  coast. 

§  44.  While  thus  the  Holy  Land  was  negatively  and  posi- 
tively adapted  for  the  destiny  of  its  inhabitants,  in  a  manner 
almost  unique,  it  also  presented  peculiar  advantages  to  the  de- 
velopment of  the  covenant  people.     It  was  intended  that,  by  the- 
immediate  guidance  of  Jehovah  liiniself,  by  Divine  blessing  or 
punishment,  by  mercies  or  chastisements,  the  people  should  be 
trained  for  what  they  had  been  designed.     But  there  is  not 
another  country  on  the  face  of  the  globe  where  blessing  or  cursa 
might  so  readily  be  realised,  as  a  space  so  narrow  does  not,  in 
any  other  part,  present  so  numerous  sources  either  of  the  one  or 
of  the  other.     In  no  other  country  do  fertility  and  barrennes.s 
pass  into  each  other  by  so  rapid  transitions — nowliere  else  do 
flourishing  fields,  laden  with  blessing,  so  readily  change  into  the 
wilderness  on  which  the  curse  rests.     Thus  the  almost  Paradi- 
.sical  valley  of  Siddim  becomes,  in  one  night,  a  pool  of  destruc- 
tion, whence  everything  that  has  life  flees,  thus  showing  the 
solemnity  of  Divine  judgments  to  all  succeeding  generations  ; 
and  over  against  it,  to  the  north,  lies  its  counterpart — a  lake 
whose  shores  present  in  combination  all  tlie  various  attractions 
of  nature,  and  which  thus  continuously  exhibits  the  mercy  and 
goodness  of  God.     The  peculiarities  of  climate  and  of  soil  in 
Palestine  presented,  besides  the  richest  promise  of  blessing,  also 
many  means  of  punishment  and  of  chastisement,  through  barren- 
ness and  failure  of  crops,  consuming  winds  from  the  wilderness, 
and  earthquakes,  swarms  of  locusts,  and  destructive  diseases, 
such  as  pestilence,  leprosy,  &c.     On  the  other  hand,  the  exceed- 
ingly favourable  circumstances  of  the  country,  and  its  political 
position,  offered  indeed  numerous  advantages  to  its  inhabitants, 
but  also  continual  teniptatiuas  to  neighbouring  nations,  and  t(^ 
the  great  powers  to  subdue  the  land,  and  to  crush  its  inhabitants  ; 
and   however  strong  and  secure  its  situation  had  rendeied  it, 


150  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  44.) 

swarms  of  hostile  nations,  who  poured  over  it,  and  the  armies  of 
the  great  powers  could — ^when  they  were  sent  to  execute  the 
Divine  judgments — ^find  their  way  into  the  heart  of  the  land,  over 
seas  and  through  deserts,  over  mountains  and  through  defiles. 

(1.)  On  the  former  fertility  of  the  promised  land,  comp.  S. 
Deyling,  Observ.  ss.,  ii.,  diss,  ix.,  and  Raumer,  Palest.,  §  88, 
&c.  Holy  writ  offers  almost  innumerable  evidences  of  this  ex- 
traordinary fertility.  In  contrast  with  the  difficulty  which  at- 
tended the  cultivation  of  land  in  Egypt,  the  spontaneous  fertihty 
of  the  land  of  promise  (Deut.  xi.  10—12)  is  extolled.  With 
this  agree  the  testimonies  of  Tacitus  (Hist.  v.  6),  of  Justin 
(xxxvi.  2),  and  Ammianus  Marcellinus  (xiv.  8.)  The  data 
of  Josephus  as  to  the  fertility  of  the  land,  the  almost  un- 
exampled number  of  its  population,  and  its  numerous  cities  and 
villages,  must  at  least  be  regarded  as  a  generally  correct  histori- 
cal statement  (comp.  Raumei-'s  Palest.,  App.  ii.,  p.  427,  &c.) 
The  best  evidence  of  the  ready  adaptation  of  the  land  either  for 
blessing  or  for  cm'se,  is  afforded  by  comparing  its  present  with 
its  former  state.  Even  the  Kabbins  of  old  had  clearly  perceived 
this  adaptation  of  the  land  to  the  blessing  or  the  curse  of  God. 
We  read  in  Jalkut  Kubeni,  fol.  72 : — Terra  sancta  non  dependet 
a  natura,  neque  manu  armata  capi  potest,  sed  dependet  vel  a 
meritis  vel  poenis,  quae  per  potentiam  Dei  supremi  benedicti 
immittuntm".  On  the  climate,  meteorology,  as  also  on  the  cul- 
tivation and  products  of  the  country,  comp.  v.  LengerTce,  Kanaan, 
i.,  pp.  49 — 177;  Arnold,  Palest.,  pp.  57 — 79;  but  especially 
Schubert's  Journey,  iii.,p.  112,  and  following;  also  Russegger's 
Journey. 

THE  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  LAND  OF  PROMISE  BEFORE  ITS 
POSSESSION  BY  THE  COVENANT  PEOPLE. 

(Comp.  Bochart,  Phaleg  et  Canaan  ;  J.  D.  Michaelis,  Spicil. 
G-eogi".  Ext.  ;  Rosenmiiller,  Antiquities  ;  Raumer,  Palest.,  p. 
312,  and  following  ;  Bertheau,  Contrib.  to  the  Hist.,  p.  137,  and 
following ;  Eivald,  Hist.  i. ,  p.  272,  and  following  ;  Lengerke, 
Kanaan,  i.,  p.  178,  and  following;  Gesenius,  Tlies.  s.  .sing.  w. ; 
Knohel,  the  Table  of  Nations  in  Genesis,  Giess.  1856  ;  G.  Baur, 
the  Prophet  Amos,  pp.  76 — 96  ;  K.  Ritter,  Geogr.,  vol.,  xv., 
sect.  1,  pp.  91 — 118;  vol.  xv.,  sect.  2,  pp.  91 — 151  ;  vol.  xvi., 
sect.  1,  168 — 192  ;  Hitzig,  the  Original  History  and  the  Mytho- 
logy of  the   PhiliRtinefli,   Leipz.   1845  ;  Jfengstetiberg,   de   reb. 


FOHMEK  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§  45.)    151 

Tyriorum,  Berol,  1832 ;  Movers  Contrib.  to  most  Ancient 
Hist,  (in  the  Magaz.  for  Philos.  and  Roman  Cath.  TlieoL,  New 
Series,  v.  2),  and  3Iovers  Phenicians,  vol.  ii.,  sect.  1  ;  the  Au- 
thor's Treatise  on  the  Original  Inhabitants  of  Palestine  (in  the 
Lutheran  Journal  for  1845,  part  3)  ;  K.  Keil,  Comment,  on 
Josh.,  pp.  40,  &c.,  217,  &c.,  230,  &c.,  242,  &c.) 

§  45.  Considering  the  character  and  position  of  the  country, 
we  can  scarcely  wonder  that  this  narrow  space  of  about  11,000 
square  English  miles, ^  shoidd  have  been  the  scene  of  migrations 
and  tumults  of  nations,  such  as  had  not  taken  place  in  any 
other  country.     The  most  diverse  nations,  the  descendants  of 
Shem,  of  Ham,  and  of  Japheth — nomadic  wanderers,  agricul- 
turists, and  inhabitants  of  towns — commercial  nations  and  con- 
quering powers,  have  by  turns  contended  for  the  possession  of 
this  land  ;  nor  is  there  any  nation  of  importance  in  liistory  which 
had  not,  at  an  earlier  or  later  period,  with  more  or  less  success, 
attempted  to  hold  it.     With  reference  to  the  nations  who  had 
possessed  the  land  before  the   Israelites,  we   gather  that  its 
first  inhabitants,  after  the  scattering  of  the  nations,  were  in 
all  probabihty  descendants  of  Shem,  and  probably  of  the  tribe 
of  Lud  (Gen.  x.  22.)     Below  or  beside  them,  the  Canaanites, 
a  powerful  tribe  of  the  race  of  Ham,   settled,   having  come 
from  the  east.     At  first  they  occupied  a  position  subordinate 
to  that  of  the  former  inhabitants  of  the  land,  and  adopted  the 
Semitic  language  ;  but  repeated  migrations  into  Palestine  gradu- 
ally gave  them  a  decided  preponderance  (1).     At  a  later  period, 
the  Philistines,  who  were,  through  Mizraim,  likewise  descended 
from  Ham,  came  over  the  sea,  and  drove  the  Canaanites,  in  the 
first  place,  from  the  southern  sea-coast  (2).     Then  followed  a 
BtiU  more  powerful  inroad  on  the  fjart  of  the  races  of  Terah 
(which  are  traced  to  Terali,  the  father  of  Abraham.)     Branches 
t)f  these  races,  such  as  the  Moabites,  the  Ammonites,  the  Edomites, 
&c. ,  had,  from  the  first,  settled  along  the  eastern  and  southern 
borders  of  the  land,  and  either  destroyed,  subjected,  or  absorbed 
the  Canaanitic  tribes  which  inhabited  tliese  districts.     But  the 
main  body  of  this  race,  the  Israelites,  had  to  pass  through  a 
peculiar  training,  and  to  submit  to  protracted  domination  on  the 

1  According  to  Kitto. 


152  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  45.) 

part  of  strangers,  before,  under  Divine  guidance,  they  were  to 
take  possession  of  the  land  destined  for  their  inheritance.  It  is 
the  object  of  this  treatise  to  describe  the  development  of  the 
races  of  Terah  in  general,  and  of  the  Israelites  in  particular,  and 
their  collisions  with  the  original  inhabitants,  and  afterwards  with 
the  conquering  powers  of  the  ancient  world. 

(1.)  Gen.  X.  15 — 19  details  the  okigin  of  the  Canaanitish 
RACES,     Of  the  eleven  tribes  mentioned  in  that  passage,  we  only 
meet  again  with  five  on  the  territory  which  was  afterwards  as- 
signed to  the  Israelites.     The  name  of  the  other  six  may  with 
certainty  be  traced  in  some  of  the  cities  north  and  north-east  of 
Sidon.     But  besides  these,  a  number  of  nations  are  mentioned  as 
inhabiting  Palestine,  but  whose  names  do  not  occur  among  the 
Canaanitish  races  in  the  table  of  nations,  and  of  whose  migration 
into  the  country  no  trace  is  discoverable.     Hence  recent  wi'iters 
(Bertheau,  Eivald,  Lengerke,  Baur,  Knobel,  Bitter,  Delitzsch) 
have  regarded  them  as  aborigines  (of  Shemitic  descent),  Avho  had 
possessed  the  land  before  the  Canaanites  migrated  into  it.     But 
Hengstenherg ,  Movers,  Keil,  and  the  author  of  this,  in  the  treatise 
to  which  we  have  above  referred,  suppose  them  to  have  been  of 
Canaanitish  descent.     Before  entering  on  this  question,  we  shall, 
in  the  meantime,  collate  what  is  known  about  the  names  and  the 
settlement  of  these  nations.      We  commence  with  the  names 
given  in  the  table  of  nations.     (1.)  The  Hittites  inhabited  Mount 
Ephraim  and  the  mountains  of  Judea,  as  far  as  Hebron  (Gen. 
xxiii.  7  ;  Num.  xiii.  29.)     They  appear  to  have  been  one  of  the 
most  important  of  the  Canaanitish  tribes  ;  and  the  word  "  Hittite" 
is  in  Joshua  i.  4,  1  Kings  x.  29,  2  Kings  vii.  (5,  employed  to  de- 
signate the  Canaanites  generally.     (2.)  Below  them,  in  Jeru- 
salem (Jebus)  and  its  neighbourhood  (Num.  xiii.  29  ;  Josh.  xi. 
3 ;  XV.  8,  G3  ;  xviii.  28 ;  Judges  xix.  11)  dwelt  the  Jehusites, 
apparently  a  much  less  important  branch  of  the  race.     (3.)  The 
most  powerful  and  warlike  among  the  Canaanites   were   the 
Amorites  (from  -^n^^,  Is.  xvii.  9,  t.e.,  that  which  is  prominent, 

•      T 

specially,  the  top ;  hence  the  name  is  generally  interpreted  as 
"  inhabitants  of  heights,"  but  may  more  properly  l)e  rendered  as 
"  the  prominent  or  high  nation."  Conip.  our  treatise  on  the 
original  inhabitants.)  At  the  time  of  Abraham  the  Amorites 
inliabited  the  neighbourhood  of  Hebron  and  of  Hazeron-Thamar 
(Gen.  xiv.  7,  13),  the  mountain  of  Judah  and  its  southern  de- 
clivity (Num.  xiii.  29;  Deut.  i.  7,  19,  20;  Josh.  xi.  3),  which 
lience  also  bore  the  name  of  "  mount  of  the  Amorites"  (Deut. 
i.  7,  &c. )  They  were  also  found  furtlier  north,  as  far  as  Sychem 
(Gen.  xlviii.  22),  if  indeed  the  word  Amorite  in  that  passage 


FOiaiKK  IXHAI'.ITANTS  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  45.)  153 

was  not  meant  in  a  more  general  sense,  comp.  GeiL  xxxiv.  2. 
At  a  later  period  the  Aniiy(orites  spread  across  the  Jordan,  and 
took  from  the  Ammonites  and  Moabites  all  the  country  (between 
the  Jabbok  and  the  Arnon)  which  the  latter  had  formerly  taken 
from  the  Eephaim  (Nmn.  xxi.  13 — 2G  ;  Judges  xi.  13,  &c.) 
The  name  is  also  frequently  used  to  designate  the  Canaanitish 
tribes  generally  (Gen.  xv.  IG  ;  Josh.  xxiv.  18  ;  Judges  vi.  10.) 
(4.)  Scripture  does  not  furnish  many  particulars  about  the  Gir- 
gashites.  From  Joshua  xxiv.  11,  we  gather  that  they  lived  in 
the  country  west  of  Jordan.  (5.)  The  Hivites  inhabited  the 
district  of  Gibeon  (Josh.  xi.  19),  that  of  Sychem  (Gen.  xxxiv. 
2),  and  also  the  neighbourhood  of  Hermon  (Josh.  xi.  3  ;  Judges 
iii.  3).  (6.)  We  read  also  repeatedly  of  the  Canaanites  in  the 
narrower  sense  of  the  term  (Gen.  xv.  21 ;  Exod.  xxiii.  23  ;  Deut. 
vii.  1,  &c.),  who,  according  to  Num.  xiii.  29,  Deut.  xi.  30,  Josh. 
v.  1,  seem  to  have  chiefly  inhabited  the  sea-coast,  and  also  the 
valley  of  the  JordaiL  In  Joshua  xi.  3,  they  are  expressly  de- 
signated as  the  "  Canaanites  on  the  east  and  on  the  west."  The 
reason  why  the  general  name  of  Canaanites  is  specially  applied 
to  this  tribe  must  probably  be  sought  in  the  circumstance  that 
their  places  of  settlement  corresponded  with  this  designation. 
In  all  probability  they  were  a  commercial  people,  and  hence  the 
name  Canaanite  is  often  used  simply  for  "merchant."  (7.) 
Lastly,  we  read  in  Gen.  xv.  20,  and  afterwards,  whenever  the 
seven  Canaanitish  nations  which  were  to  be  exterminated  are 
enumerated,  of  the  Ferizzitcs,  as  in  Exod.  iii.  8,  xxiii.  23 ; 
Deut.  vii.  1,  &c.  Their  name  indicates  that  they  inhabited  the 
flat  country  (comp.  Hengsteiibenj ^  Contrib.  iii.  p.  186.)  The 
name  does  not  occur  in  the  table  of  nations  among  the  sons 
of  Canaan.  Bertheau  ascribes  this  to  some  oversight,  and 
argues  that  the  eleven,  there  enumerated  as  Canaiuiitish  nations, 
point  to  the  fact  that  originally  twelve  had  been  recounted. 
But  we  rather  account  for  it  on  the  ground,  that  at  that,  and 
even  at  a  later  period,  the  name  was  chiefly  used  in  the  sense 
of  an  appellative.  Probably  they  inhabited  the  high  plains  o+" 
the  west  country  (Gen.  xiii.  7 ;  Josh.  xi.  3.)  Sometimes  the 
two  names  "  Canaanites  and  Perizzites"  are  combined  (Gen.  xiii. 
7,  and  xxxiv.  30),  to  indicate  all  the  inhabitants  of  Palestine,  so 
that  by  the  former  we  are  to  understand  the  conunercial  inhabi- 
tants of  the  sea-coast,  and  by  the  latter  the  agricultural  and 
pastoral  tribes  of  the  liighlands. 

The  following  races  which  are  commonly  regarded  as  among 
the  original  inhabitants  ol  Palestine  do  not  occur  in  the  table  of 
nations.      (1.)  The  Rephaim,  LXX.  yi.'yavTe'i  i.e.  Ihe  tall,  comp. 

^i;  =  altus,  cminens  fuit,  tlie  common  name  of  certain  races 
distinguished  by  their  gigantic  stature  (Ewald  i.  p.  275.)   Anothei- 


154  A.     THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  45,) 

common  name  of  these  tribes  of  giants  was  that  of  Enakim  or 
sons  of  Enak  {i.e.  long-necked,  gigantic),  with  this  'difference, 
however,  that  the  giants  on  the  east  of  Jordan  are  specially 
designated  as  Rephaim  (Deut.  ii.  11 ;  iii.  11,  &c.),  and  those 
west  of  the  Jordan  as  Enakim  (Dent.  ix.  2 ;  Num.  xiii.  22,  &c.) 
But  the  expression  Eephaim  is  also  employed  for  the  giants  on 
this  side  Jordan,  in  Joshua  xvii.  15  ;  and  2  Sam.  xxi.  15 — 22. 
To  the  Enakim  of  the  country  west  of  Jordan  belong  also  the 
Avim,  Joshua  xi.  21,  &c.,  comp.  with  Joshua  xiii.  3,  and  2 
Sam.  xxi.  15 — 22.  This  tribe  inhabited  the  southern  sea  coast. 
The  Enakim  of  the  highlands  (in  Mount  Judah,  and  especially  in 
the  neighbom-hood  of  Hebron)  existed  till  the  time  of  Joshua 
(Deut.  ix.  2 ;  Num.  xiii.  28),  by  whom  they  were  exterminated, 
Joshua  xi.  21,  &c.  The  Avim  at  the  sea  coast  had  at  a  former 
period  been  expelled  by  the  Philistines,  but  remnants  of  them 
still  continued  in  the  towns  of  Philistia,  Deut.  ii.  23  ;  Joshua  xi. 
21,  22,  xiii.  3.  The  following  are  the  giant  tribes  who  inha- 
bited the  country  east  of  Jordan,  fa.)  The  Emim,  i.e.  the 
terrible,  who,  according  to  Gen.  xiv.  5,  dwelt  in  'Shaveh  (or  the 
plain)  Kiriathaim,  between  the  Arnon  and  the  Sared.  Thence 
they  were  either  exj^elled  or  exterminated  by  the  Moabites, 
Numb.  xxi.  12,  &c.  fb.J  The  Susim,  i.e.  the  prominent.  They 
are  mentioned  in  Gen.  xiv.  5  in  connection  with  the  predatory 
excursion  of  Chedorlaomer.  As  the  account  given  in  that  pas- 
sage is  manifestly  most  accurate  in  its  description  of  localities, 
we  gather  from  the  position  assigned  to  them  that  they  inhabited 
the  district  between  the  Jabbok  and  the  Arnon.  They  are, 
therefore,  the  same  as  the  race  of  giants  whom  the  Ammonites 
that  expeUed  them,  caUed  the  Zamzummim,  Deut.  ii.  20 ;  Judges 
xi.  13,  &c. ;  Joshua  xii.  2.  fc.J  The  Bej^iaim  in  the  narrower 
sense  of  the  term  who  lived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Ashtaroth- 
Karnaim,  in  Edrei,  Gen.  xiv.  5 ;  Deut.  i.  4,  and  hence  on  the 
high  plain  of  Bashan.  The  Israelites  exterminated  them  and 
their  king  at  the  thue  of  Moses.  Among  the  original  inhabitants 
of  the  land,  who  were  not  of  Canaanitish  descent,  recent  writers 
have  also  included,  2dly,  the  Horites,  i.e.  dwellers  in  caves.  At 
the  time  of  Abraham  they  livecT  m  Mount  Seir,  which,  at  a  later 
period,  became  the  mount  of  the  Edomites,  Gen.  xiv.  6,  and  where 
many  large  caverns  and  gTottos  are  found  (Joseph,  de  hiUo  jud. 
iv.  9,  4 ;  Robinson  ii.  pp.  68,  154.)  Even  before  the  time  of 
Moses  they  had  either  been  exterminated  by,  or  else  amalgamated 
with,  the  Edomites,  Deut.  ii.  12,  22 ;  Gen.  xxxvi.— ScUy,  We 
read  in  Gen.  xv.  19  of  some  other  tribes  wliich  are  also  sujDposed 
to  have  been  original  inhabitants  of  the  land,  and  to  have 
descended  from  Shem.  Among  these  we  reckon  the  Kenites, 
the  Kenizzites,  and  the  Kadmonites.     At  a  later  period  a  branch 


FORMER  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§  45.)    155 

of  the  Midianites,  with  wliom  Moses  became  related  by  marriage, 
bore  the  name  of  Keiiites,  i.e.  those  who  carry  lances.  They 
separated  from  theii'  own  tribe,  and  dwelt  peacefully  among  the 
Israelites  (Judges  i.  16,  iv.  11  ;  1  Sam.  xv.  6,  xxvii.  10,  xxx.  29.) 
Another  tribe  of  Kenites  belonged,  according  to  Num.  xxiv.  21 , 
&c.,  to  the  enemies  of  Israel.  (On  the  probable  connection 
between  these  two  tribes,  comp.  below  vol.  2.)  No  farther  par- 
ticulars are  given  about  the  Kenizzites,  i.e.  the  tribe  of  hunters, 
but  the  name  occurs  afterwards  in  one  of  the  famihes  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah.  Of  the  Kadmonites  also  nothing  farther  is  said. 
These  tlu-ee  tribes  probably  inhabited  the  south-eastern  borders 
of  Palestine,  and  so  early  as  the  time  of  Moses  had  either  been 
extirpated  or  absorbed  by  the  side  branches  of  the  races  descended 
from  Terah.  Ewald,  Lengerhe,  and  Knohel  (p.  200)  ranlv  the 
Amalekites  among  these  old  Arabic  tribes.  At  so  early  a  period 
as  that  of  Gen.  xiv.  7  they  appear  to  have  inhabited  the  great 
wilderness  between  Palestine  and  Mount  et-Tih,  in  the  Sinaitic 
peninsula,  while  in  Num.  xxiv.  20  they  are  mentioned  as  among 
the  original  inhabitants.  The  Arabs  trace  them  to  Laud 
(=  Lud)  as  their  ancestor.  On  the  other  hand  Hengstenherg 
(Contrib.  iii.,  p.  303,  &c.)  appealing  to  Gen.  xxxvi.  12,  16, 
regards  them  as  a  branch  of  the  Edomites.  This  view  appears 
to  us  correct,  chiefly  because  the  name  Amalekites  does  not 
occur  in  the  table  of  nations.  For  we  cannot  believe  that  a 
nation  so  powerful,  which  had  so  frequently  exercised  an  im- 
portant iniiuence  on  the  history  of  Israel,  and  remained  inde- 
pendent so  late  as  the  time  of  the  Jewish  kings,  should  not  have 
been  specially  mentioned  in  that  list  if  it  had  not  been  of 
Terahitic  descent.  In  fact  the  Amalekites  are  not  mentioned  in 
any  of  the  numerous  passages  in  which  the  names  of  the  original 
inhabitants  of  the  country  are  detailed.  In  Gen.  xiv.  7  we  read 
— according  to  a  very  frequent  prolepsis — of  the  country  but  not 
of  the  people  of  the  Amaleldtes.  In  Numb.  xxiv.  20  they  are 
indeed  designated  as  "  the  first  of  the  nations,"  but  this  does  not 
imply  that  they  were  "  original  inhabitants,"  but  that  they  were 
the  hrst  among  the  heathen  nations  to  oppose  Israel  (comp. 
Hengstenhei^g's  Balaam,  p.  188,  &c.)  It  does,  however,  seem 
strange,  that  if  the  Amalekites  were  (according  to  Gen.  xxxvi. 
12  and  16)  descended  from  a  son  of  Esau,  they  slioidd,  at  the 
time  of  Moses,  already  have  become  so  powerful  a  nation.  But 
it  may  be  supposed  that  the  Edomitic  Amalekites  had  increased 
in  a  manner  similar  to  the  main  branch  of  the  tribe  of  Edom, 
who,  within  so  short  a  period,  became  of  importance,  by  having 
subjected  and  absorbed  otlier  races  (such  as  the  Horites,  &c.) 
Tiastly,  we  read  that  in  the  southern  part  of  the  country,  besides 
Ihe  Amalekite».  the  following  races  had  lived  (1  Samuel  xxvii. 


156  A.     THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  45.) 

8),  viz.  : — the  Geshurites  (Joshua  xiii.  2)  ;  the  Girzites  ;  and, 
according  to  Judges  x.  12,  1  Chron.  iv.  41,  2  Chron.  xxvi.  27, 
the  Maonites  on  Mount  Seir,  where  their  name  is  still  preserved 
in  the  town  of  Maon  (Robinson,  vol.  i.,  494,  &c.)  These  three 
tribes  cannot  with  certainty  be  farther  traced  back.  Probably 
they  were  offshoots  of  Terahitic  races,  dating  from  a  time  posterior 
to  that  of  Moses. 

We  now  address  ourselves  to  the  enquiry,  whether  or  not  the 
races  above  mentioned  (the  Rephaim,  Horites,  &c.)  were,  as  most 
recent  investigators  have  maintained,  original  inhabitants, 
who  preceded  the  Canaanites,  but  were  not  of  the  same  descent. 
To  this  question,  we  had,  in  a  former  edition,  given  a  negative 
reply ;  but  a  renewed  examination  has  convinced  us  that  the 
preponderance  of  argument  is  in  favour  of  the  opposite  view. 
True,  we  do  not  find  that  these  tribes  had  inhabited  the  land 
before  the  entrance  of  the  Canaanites,  nor  that  they  were  ex- 
pelled or  even  attacked  by  them ;  wliile  they  appear  to  have 
been  expelled  or  exterminated  by  those  later  arrivals,  the  Phi- 
listines and  Terahites.  Neither  can  it  be  denied  that  the 
Rephaim,  the  Enakim,  Horites,  &c.,  are  frequently  designated 
simply  as  Canaanites  or  Amorites.  But  all  this  is  satisfactorily 
explained  if  we  regard  the  entrance  of  the  Canaanites  into  the 
country,  not  as  a  hostile  irruption,  but  as  a  peaceful  settlement 
among  and  by  the  side  of  the  Shemitic  original  inhabitants.  If 
the  Canaanites,  as  seems  probable  on  other  grounds  (comp. 
Knobel,  1.  c,  jd.  315),  gradually  migrated  into  the  country,  we 
can  readily  imderstand  that  they  should  have  amalgamated  with 
its  former  inhabitants,  and  become  Shemitic  both  in  manners 
and  language.  But  by  repeated  migi-ations,  to  which  Gen.  x. 
15 — 18  points,  the  Canaanitish  element  obtained  so  decided  a 
preponderance  over  the  original  inhabitants,  that  the  latter  were 
partly  absorbed  by  the  former  ;  and  the  name  of  Canaanites  or 
Amorites  became  the  general  designation  for  all  the  inhabitants 
of  Palestine,  without  distinction  of  their  descent.  Although  all 
the  arguments  urged  in  favom*  of  this  view  are  not  satisfactory, 
this  one  seems  to  us  decisive,  that  we  can  only  account  for  the 
Shemitic  language  of  the  Phenicians  and  the  Canaanites  gener- 
ally, if  the  above  explanation  is  correct. 

According  to  the  statement  of  classical  writers  (Herod,  i.  1 , 
and  yii.  89  ;  Strabo,  1.  i.,  p.  42,  and  1.  xvi.,  pp.  766,  784),  the 
Phenicians  had,  by  their  own  statements,  and  by  those  of  the 
Persians,  migrated  into  the  country  by  way  of  the  Erythrean  {i.e., 
in  Herod,  the  southern  sea),  or  more  accurately,  according  to 
Strabo,  by  way  of  the  Persian  Gulf  FoUoAving  Bochart,  (1.  c.  iv., 
c.  34),  Ferizonius  (Aeg.,  p.  348),  and  Vitringa  (Obs.  ss.  i.  1,  §  13) 
— Hengstenberg  (de  rebus  Tyriorum,  Berol.,  1832,  p.  93,  &c.). 


FORMER  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§  45.)    157 

Movers  (Phenicians,  ii.  1,  p.  23,  &c.),  and  K.  Bitter  (1.  c,  p. 
95,  &c.)  have  controverted  the  accuracy  of  these  data,  on  the 
ground  that,  according  to  Gen.  x.  15 — 19,  the  Canaanites  had 
from  the  first  settled  on  tlie  sliores  of  Palestine,  and  that  not  a 
trace  of  any  former  inliahitants  could  be  discovered  in  the  Bible. 
But  the  latter  statement  is  erroneous.  But  even  if  correct,  it 
would  not  prove  anything,  as  against  the  testimony  of  the  classics, 
since  Palestine  might  have  been  still  uninhabited,  even  if  the 
Canaanites  had  not  at  once,  and  immediately  after  the  dispersion 
of  the  nations,  migrated  into  it.  The  first  assertion  of  these 
critics  is  not  borne  out  by  Gen.  x.  15 — 19.  On  the  contrary, 
there  is  nothing  in  that  passage  inconsistent  with  the  \dew  that, 
before  taking  possession  of  Palestine,  the  Canaanites  had  pre- 
viously been  settled  in  other  places,  as  the  table  of  nations  is 
only  meant  to  indicate  the  relations  of  nations  as  they  existed  at 
the  time  of  Moses.  We  would  even  go  farther,  and  assert  that 
it  contains  liints  which  lead  to  the  supposition  that  the  Canaanites 
had  not  migrated  into  Palestine  immediately  after  the  dispersion 
of  nations.  It  is  reasonable  to  infer,  that  as  the  descendants  of 
Ham  migrated  southwards,  and  Palestine  lay  outside  the  range 
of  their  settlements,  the  Canaanites  had  at  first  followed  in  the 
direction  of  the  other  descendants  of  Ham,  until,  at  a  later 
period,  and  for  some  sj^ecial  reason,  they  had  left,  and  struck  off 
in  a  different  direction.  The  expression  in  Gen.  x.  18,  "  after- 
ward were  spread  abroad,"  may  jjoint  to  this  later  migration  of 
the  Canaanites,  which  was  independent  of  the  first  and  general 
dispersion  of  nations.  Even  the  circumstance  that  Canaan  is 
named  last  among  the  tribes  of  Ham,  may  indicate  that,  in  point 
of  fact,  tliis  race  had  been  the  latest  offshoot  from  the  main  tribe, 
and  the  last  to  take  an  independent  direction.  For,  as  the  table 
of  nations  records  tlie  birth  of  nations,  not  that  of  single  indivi- 
duals, its  arrangement  is  not  according  to  the  age  of  ancestors, 
but  according  to  the  earher  or  later  origin  or  settlement  of  na- 
tions. But  if  the  statement  of  the  classics,  so  far  from  contra- 
dicting that  of  the  Bible,  tallies  Avith  it,  it  must  also  be  considered 
as  in  itself  deserving  of  historical  credence,  being  an  authentic 
testimony  on  the  part  of  these  nations  themselves,  and  that  more 
especially  since  the  Biblical  statement  concerning  the  descent  of 
the  Phenicians  from  Ham,  the  correctness  of  which  has  frequently 
been  controverted  on  pliilological  grounds,  agrees  so  remarkably 
with  it.  For  the  classics  represent,  as  the  mother-country  of  the 
Phenician  settlers,  that  very  spot  from  which,  according  to  the 
Bible,  all  the  movements  of  the  races  of  Ham  must  have  issued. 
Comp.  also  Bertheau,  1.  c,  pp.  163 — 186,  and  KnoheL  1.  c,  p. 
314,  &c. 

If  linguistic  considerations  render  it  necessary  to  suppose  that 


158  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  45,) 

the  oldest  inhabitants  of  Palestine  were  of  Shemitic  descent,  this 
\dew  is  confirmed  by  the  relative  positions  of  the  races  of  Shem 
since  the  dispersion  of  the  nations.  In  this  respect  both  the  ar- 
rangement of  the  table  of  nations  in  Gen.  x.,  and  stiU  more  de- 
cisively the  Arabic  accounts  of  the  original  j)osition  of  nations, 
lend  the  greatest  probability  to  the  supposition  that  Palestine 
had  been  occupied  by  the  Shemitic  tribe  oi  Lud  (Gen.  x.  22),  a 
view  which  the  careful  investigations  of  Knohel  (p.  198,  &c.) 
has  established.  With  Bertlieau,  we  account  for  the  circum- 
stance that  these,  the  original  Shemitic  inhabitants  of  Palestine, 
are,  in  the  table  of  nations,  not  enumerated  according  to  their 
individual  tribes,  on  the  ground  that  when  the  Israelites 
took  possession  of  the  land,  they  had  already  lost  their  indepen- 
dent existence,  and  been  either  absorbed  or  expelled  by  the 
Canaanitish,  PliiHstine  or  Terachite  settlers.  For  it  must  always 
be  borne  in  mind  that  the  table  of  nations  is  only  meant  to  detail 
the  ethnograpliical  state  of  that  time  (comp.  §  29,  5.) 

2.  Our  investigations  on  the  origin  and  the  migrations  of 
the  Philistines  must  be  based  on  the  following  Biblical  accounts : 
— In  Gen.  x.  14,  the  Casluhim  and  Caphtorim  are  mentioned  as 
the  two  last  branches  of  the  Chametic  tribe  Mizraim  (Egyjjt), 
and  after  the  word  Casluliim,  we  have  it  within  parenthesis — 
"  Of  whom  came  the  Philistim."  In  Jer.  xlvii.  4,  the  Philistines 
are  called  the  remnant  of  the  isle  (the  coast  ?)  of  Caphtor.  In 
Amos  ix.  7,  Jehovah  says,  "  Have  I  not  brought  up  Israel  out 
of  the  land  of  Egypt  ?  and  the  Philistines  from  Caphtor,  and 
the  Syrians  from  Kir  ?"  In  Deut.  ii.  23,  we  are  informed  that 
the  Caphtorim  came  forth  out  of  Caphtor,  and  destroyed  the 
Avim,  even  unto  Gaza.  In  Ezek.  xxv.  16,  and  Zeph.  ii.  5  (comp. 
1  Sam.  XXX.  14,  16),  we  have,  instead  of  the  term  Philistines 
in  the  parallel  clause,  that  of  Cheretliim  (LXX.,  Kpr)7e<i  and 
TrdpoLKoi  KprjTwv).  In  2  Sam.  viii.  18,  xv.  18,  xx.  7,  the  body- 
guard of  king  David  is  called  i]-|^Qni  TT^^H)  '^^  ^  Sam.  xx. 

23,  •'Jl^Dni  "'HSn  (b^t  ^^^  Kri  has  it  also  ijrii^n)'  ^^^  i^  ^ 
Kings  xi.  4,  19,  that  of  queen  Athaliah  Qi^-^n'^  "^"13n, 

•       T  X      ;  ■  T    T 

The  question  which  we  have  now  to  answer  is,  what  country 
WAS  Caphtor  ?  According  to  J.  D.  Michaelis  (Spic.  i.  p.  292, 
&c.),  it  was  the  isle  of  Cyprus,  which,  according  to  Sivinton 
(Inscript.  Cit.,  Oxon,  1750,  pp.  78,  85)  was  designated  on  a 
Phenician  coin  as  -)i^3.  But  however  the  situation  of  this 
island  would  tally  with  Gen.  x.  14,  this  hy}3othesis  must  be  given 
up,  as  it  has  been  shown  that  Sivinton  had  not  read  the  inscrip- 
tion correctly  (Gesenius  Monum.  Phoen.  ii.,  p.  320.)  Latterly, 
Redslob  (the  Old  Testament  Names,  Hamb.,  1846,  p.  15,  &c.) 
has  again  asserted  this  theory,  and  attempted  to  show  that  ^r*S3 


FORMER  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§  45.)    15^ 

is  either  a  raodification  of  the  word  -^95,  or  at  any  rate  a  com- 
l)ination  of  -^j^^  and  "^p^,  which  he  thinks  he  is  the  rather  war- 
ranted to  infer,  as  the  plant  -^33  was  in  Greek  designated  by 

KVTTpo^.  But  irrespective  of  the  unsatisfactory  character  of  this 
argumentation,  we  sliall  immediately  show  that  the  country  in 
question  must  have  heen  Crete.  Bocliardt  (Phal.  iv.  p.  32)  at- 
tempts to  ujihold  the  correctness  of  the  ancient  versions  (LXX., 
Vulg.,  Syr.,  Chald.),  according  to  which  Caphtor  is  the  same  as 
Cappadocia  (a  view  towards  which  Gesenius  also  inclines,  Thes. 
p.  709  ;  comp.  also  Keil^  Comm.  to  the  book  of  Kings,  p.  15.) 
He  asserts  that  as  Cappadocia  had  formerly  extended  to  the 
Pontus  Euxinus,  it  may  well  have  been  designated  as  an  1^^ 

With  this  he  thinks  the  passage  in  Gren.  x.  14  agrees,  inasmuch 
as  Colchis  (the  same  as  Casluhim)  was  contiguous  to  Cappadocia. 
But  however  important  tlie  agreement  of  tlie  various  versions 
may  be,  it  cannot  counterbalance  the  data  of  the  Old  Testament 
itself,  and  of  classical  writers,  all  of  whom  show  that  Crete  was 
the  country  meant.     Besides,  the  explanation  of  the  term  -1^,  by 

"  sea-coast,"  is,  to  say  the  least,  in  the  present  ins.tance,  unsatis- 
factory, both  on  philological  and  other  grounds  (Hitzig,  1.  c.  p. 
15),  while  the  remarkable  agreement  of  the  versions  may  be 
satisfactorily  accoimted  for  from  the  similarity  of  name  Ijetween 
Caphtor  and  Cappadocia,  which  had  probably  misled  them  (ac- 
cording to  Lassen,  Ancient  Persian  Cuneiform  Inscript.,  p.  88, 
the  latter  name  was  originally  written  Katpatuk.)  Since  the 
appearance  of  Calmefs  Bibl.  Oliserv.  (iii.  p.  25),  and  of  Lake- 
machers  Observ.  Philol.  (ii.  p.  11,  &c.),  the  view  that  Caphtor 
was  the  same  as  Crete  has  been  more  and  more  generally  received. 
The  arguments  in  its  favour  have  been  most  clearly  set  forth  by 
Bertheau  1.  c.  p.  186,  &c.,  and  by  Hitzig  1.  c.  p.  14,  &c.  The 
passages  1  Sam.  xxx.  14,  16,  &c.,  Ezek.  xxv.  16,  Zeph.  ii.  5,  in 
which  the  Philistines  are  distinctly  called  Cretes,  fully  decide 
the  question,  as  it  is  impossible  with  Michaelis  to  interpret  that 
name  as  an  appellative,  equivalent  to  "  Exsules."  This  view  is 
also  confirmed  l)y  the  well-known  names  of  the  royal  body-guard, 
wliich,  after  carefully  weighing  the  argimients  for  and  against  it 
(Avliich  shall  be  detailed  in  the  sequel),  can  only  be  regarded  as 
the  patronomics  of  Philistine  tribes.  The  Greeks  and  Komans 
also  bear  testimony  to  the  correctness  of  this  opinion.  In  Tacitus 
Hist.  V.  2  we  read :  "  Judaeos  Creta  insula  profugos  novissima 
Libyae  insedisse,  qua  tempestate  Saturnus,  vi  Jovis  pulsus,  ces- 
serit  regnis :  argumentum  e  nomine  petitur :  inclytum  in  Creta 
Idam  mortem,  adcolas  Idaeos ;  aucto  in  barbarum  cognomento 
Judaeos  vocitari."  The  manifest  mistake  in  this  passage  arises 
from  confounding  the  Jews  and  Philistines,  an  error  common 


160  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  45.) 

both  among  the  Romans  and  Greeks,  as  even  the  name  Pal^estina 
=  Judaea  shows.  But  in  that  view  the  passage,  which  we  have 
quoted,  affords  distinct  testimony  for  the  descent  of  the  Philis- 
tines from  Crete.  Again  if  it  were  maintained  that  the  above 
statement  has  no  historical  foundation,  resting  as  it  does  on  a 
mere  etymological  combination  of  the  words  Judaei  and  Idaei, 
it  must  of  com'se  fall  to  the  ground.  The  former  opinion  is 
advocated  by  Bertheau  and  Hitzig,  while  the  latter  has  been 
adopted  by  Gesenius.  In  defence  of  tlie  identity  of  the  Philis- 
tines and  Cretes,  it  may  be  urged  that  the  name  Idaei  is  nowhere 
mentioned  as  that  of  a  nation,  and  that  making  every  allowance 
for  the  very  defective  knowledge  of  Jewish  history  on  the  part 
of  classical  writers,  the  mythic  Dactiles  (Cretan  Demons  to  whom 
legend  traced  the  art  of  working  iron),  and  who  bear  the  epithet 
of  Idaei,  do  not  in  any  way  seem  capable  of  being  brought  into 
connection  with  the  Jews.  The  combination  of  Idaei  and  Judaei 
would  scarcely  have  led  to  the  assumption  of  a  migration  from 
Crete  into  Palestine.  On  the  other  hand  it  may  readily  have 
been  taken  as  affording  confirmation  of  the  above  historical  tra- 
dition. We  also  read  in  Steph,  Byz.  s.  v.  Td^a  that  that  city 
was  also  called  Mivcoa, — which,  however,  does  not  afford  a  very 
secure  basis  for  argiunentation  on  account  of  chronological  diffi- 
culties (according  to  Hocli,  Crete  i.  p.  360,  Minos  only  lived 
about  1300,  wliile  according  to  Gen.  xx.  2,  and  ch.  xxvi.  PhiUstine 
kings  reigned  in  Palestine  even  at  the  time  of  the  Patriarchs.) 
The  Cashdrim  have,  since  the  time  of  Bochart,  been  generally 
identified  with  the  Colclii.  According  to  Herod,  ii.  104  they 
stated  that  they  were  of  Egyptian  descent.  But  Hitz  ig  controverts 
this  view.  According  to  him  the  similarity  between  the  names 
is  only  accidental,  and  if  Caphtor  is  Crete  and  not  Cappadocia, 
the  chief  ground  of  the  above  view — the  neighbourhood  of  Col- 
chis to  Cappodocia — would  be  taken  away ;  while  the  statement 
of  Herod,  applied  probably  to  a  transportation  of  exiles  from 
Egypt  to  Colchis  at  the  time  of  the  Assyrian  conquests  (comp. 
1.  c.  p.  87,  &c.)  But  Knohel  (p.  290,  &c.,)  rightly  controverts 
this  opinion.  He  finds  that  the  most  ancient  settlements  of  the 
Casluhim  were  by  the  sea-coast,  from  the  Pelusian  mouth  of  the 
Nile  to  Palestine,  which  district  Ptolemy  calls  Cassiotis  (iv.  5, 
12.)  Their  transportation  to  Colchis  on  the  Black  Sea  may 
have  taken  place  in  consequence  of  the  campaign  of  Sesostris,  or 
perhaps  at  an  earher  period,  as  according  to  an  ancient  legend, 
in  Diodorus  i.  28,  Egyptians  had  migrated  even  before  the  time 
of  Sesostris,  and  founded  Colchis. 

The  name  Pliilistines  is  commonly  derived  from  the  root  ^j^^q 
=  migravit,  which  is  still  in  use  in  Ethiopic.  Accordingly  it 
would  mean  emigrants — a  rendering  with  wliich  that  of  the 


FORMEU  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§45.)    lol 

LXX.,  who  translated  'A\\o4)vXoi,  agrees.  Hitzig,  who,  as  we 
shall  see,  takes  the  Philistines  to  have  been  Pelasgi,  traces  the 
name  to  an  Indo-Germanic  root  (p.  35,  &c.),  and  supposes  that 
it  is  derived  from  the  Sanscrit  word  valaksha  =  ivliite  (from  the 
colour  of  their  skin),  being  the  same  as  the  root  of  the  name 
Pelasgi.  But  this  view  falls  together  with  the  above-mentioned 
untenable  hypothesis. 

With  reference  to  the  descent  of  the  Phihstines,  we  have  first 
to  consider  the  difference  between  Gen.  x.  14,  according  to  which 
they  came  from  the  Casluhim,  and  the  other  passages  of  the  Old 
Testament,  according  to  which  they  came  from  Caphtor  or  Crete. 
The  easiest  solution  of  this  difficulty  is  to  assume  a  corruption 
in  the  text  (the  words  in  parenthesis  having  originally  stood  after 
Caphtorim  and  not  after  Casluhim.)  Tuck,  BerfJiecm,  and  others 
decide  in  favour  of  this  view.  But  this  solution  is  not  satisfac- 
tory, as  the  expression  occurs  again  in  the  same  manner  in 
1  Chron.  i.  12.  It  will,  therefore,  be  more  advisable  to  attempt 
another  solution  without  interfering  with  the  text.  31.  Bmim- 
garfen  (ad.  h.  1.)  thinks  that  the  Caphtorim  were  a  sub-division 
oi  the  Casluhim  and  had  settled  in  Crete,  while  the  main  body 
of  the  tribe  had  migrated  into  Colchis.  Hitzig,  p.  1)0,  &c., 
appeals  to  the  expression  of  Tacitus  '' novissima  Lihyac"  and 
infers  that  the  Casluhim  had,  in  pre-historic  times,  migrated  from 
Crete,  and  settled  along  the  eastern  borders  of  Egj^pt.  Thence 
the  colony  of  Pliilistines,  mentioned  in  Gen.  x.,  had  migrated  into 
the  neighbourhood  of  Gerar,  where  alone,  at  the  time  of  Abraham, 
Philistines  seem  to  have  been  settled.  Afterwards,  in  historical 
times,  he  supposes,  the  Caphtorim,  another  colony  of  Philistines, 
to  whom  Ainos  and  the  writer  of  Deut.  allude,  had  migrated 
from  Crete  and  settled  along  the  coast  of  Palestine,  to  the  north 
of  Gaza.  At  any  rate  we  have  to  distinguish  two  different 
bodies  among  the  Pliilistines  of  Palestine :  the  □''Jlip^Q  '^^'^^^  ^^^*^ 
□ip-^3  (Ezek.  XXV.  16;  Zeph.  ii.  5)  probably  the  same  which 
in  other  places  are  respectively  designated  as  the  17115  '^^^ 
"nSe  (^  Sam.  viii.  18,  xv.  18,  xx.  7.)     This  removes  every 

difficidty.  We  have  already  seen  that  the  Cheretliim  must  be 
traced  back  to  the  Ca})htorim  (Jer.  xlvii.  4;  Amos  ix.  7),  while 
from  Gen.  x.  14  we  learn  that  the  Philistines  must  be  traced  to 
the  Casluhim.  The  Casluhim,  who  were  the  first  to  migrate 
into  Palestine,  obtained  the  name  of  Pliilistines  {i.e.  emigrants.) 
The  Caphtorim  or  Cherethmi,  who  were  related  to  them,  arrived 
at  a  later  period,  and  were  jjrobably  much  fewer  in  number?. 
Hence  they  were  included  under  the  general  name  of  Philistines, 
wiiile,  when  a  more  accurate  determination  was  desired,  they  were 
distinguished   as   the    Cheretliim   from   the    Philistine    pioper. 

VuL  I.  -  L 


U>2  A.    THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  45.) 

Eioald  (i.  p.  289),  however,  thinks  that  only  one  colony  of 
Philistines  had  migrated  into  Palestine,  and  that  its  settlement 
had  taken  place  during  the  first  half  of  the  period  of  the  Judges. 
He  accounts  for  the  occurrence  of  the  name  of  Philistines  at  the 
time  of  Ahraham,  Gen.  xx.  xxi.  xxvi.,  and  at  that  of  Moses, 
Exod.  xiii.  17,  &c.,  by  supposing  it  to  he  a  prolepsis,  and  that 
the  historian  designated  the  tribe  inhabiting  the  south-western 
portion  of  the  country  by  a  name  of  later  origin,  with  which  he 
was  familiar.  But  even  Lengerke,  1.  c.  i.  p.  196,  &c.,  and  Hitzig, 
1.  c.  p.  147,  &c.,  have  controverted  this  view.  In  Gen.  xx.  xxi. 
(w.  32,  34),  and  in  Exod.  xiii.  17,  xv.  14,  the  historian  refers 
indeed  only  to  the  country  of  the  Philistines,  and  these  passages 
might  tally  with  the  h37Jothesis  of  Ewcdd.  But  in  Gen.  xxvi. 
1,  8,  Abimelech  is  distinctly  called  the  king  of  the  Philistines, 
and  in  verse  18  Ms  subjects  are  designated  as  Philistines.  It  is 
manifestly  impossible  to  assume  a  prolepsis  in  this  case.  Thus 
we  may  imagine  that  in  a  history  of  America  before  its  coloniza- 
tion, the  district  which  at  present  bears  the  name  of  Pennsylvania 
might  j)Gr  jprolepsin  be  so  designated,  but  not  that  its  original 
inhabitants  might  be  called  Britons.  According  to  Deut.  ii.  23, 
and  Joshua  xiii.  2,  3,  Philistines  inhabited  the  country  even  at 
the  time  of  Moses  and  Joshua.  Judges  iii.  3  also  refers  to 
princes  of  the  PhiKstines.  During  the  first  period  of  the  Judges, 
the  Philistines  attempted  to  oppress  Israel,  and  were  beaten 
by  Shamgar  (Judges  iii.  31,  comp.  with  x.  11.)  If  Eivald 
appeals  to  the  circumstance  that  the  Pliilistines  are  not  men- 
tioned when  the  Israelites  first  took  possession  of  Canaan,  we 
answer  with  Hitzig  that  this  is  readily  accounted  for  on  the 
ground  that  no  part  of  the  territory  of  the  Philistines  had  been 
gained  by  them.  Again,  when  we  read  in  Judges  i.  1 8  that  after  the 
death  of  Joshua  the  tribe  of  Judah  had  taken  the  cities  of  Gaza, 
Ashlcelon,  and  Ekron,  which,  however,  are  not  expressly  mentioned 
as  cities  of  the  Philistines,  any  inference  e  silentio  would  not 
prove  much.  Lastly,  the  fact  that  the  Philistines  only  became  so 
dangerous  at  the  time  of  Samson  and  Eli  does  not  prove  that 
they  had  settled  in  Palestine  at  a  later  period  than  the  Israelites, 
since  Judges  iii.  31  and  x.  11  show  that  they  had  before  that 
time  attemj^ted  to  subject  the  Israelites,  although  without  per- 
manent success. 

With  Hitzig,  Knohel,  and  Bitter,  we  therefore  suppose  that 
there  were  two  settlements  of  Philistines  in  Palestine.  As  the 
first  of  these  we  regard  the  migration  of  the  Casluhim,  which 
must  have  occurred  before  the  time  of  Abraham.  That  migration 
was  probably  not  from  Colchis,  which  was  a  later  settlement  of 
the  Casluhim,  but  from  their  earhest  seats,  in  the  neighbouring 
Cassiotis.     The  second  migration  of  Philistines  was  that  of  the 


FORMER  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  HOLY  LAND.  (§  45.)    1G3 

(Japhtorim  or  (/'lierethim,  as  they  are  called,  who  left  Crete  and 
arrived  in  Palestine  during  the  period  between  Abraham  and 
Moses.  Of  the  latter  we  read  in  Deut.  ii.  23  that  on  their 
arrival  from  Caphtor  they  had  destroyed  the  Avim  unto  Gaza. 
But  Philistines  lived  south  of  Gaza — for  Gerar  lay  at  any  rate 
farther  south — even  so  early  as  the  time  of  Abraham.  These 
must  therefore  be  distinguished  from  the  Caphtorim,  and  hence 
regarded  as  Casluhic  Philistines. 

We  now  return  to  the  question  of  the  descent  of  the  Philis- 
tines. The  two  tribes,  the  Casluhim  and  the  Caphtorim,  are,  in 
Gen.  X.  14,  traced  back  to  Ham,  through  Mizraim.  ^^niKnohel 
denies  the  descent  of  the  Casluhim  from  Mizraim.  He  thinks 
that  the  expression  rendered  "  Out  of  whom  came  PhiUstim," 
does  not  prove  the  derivation  of  the  latter  from  the  Casluliim. 
He  holds  that  the  term  i^i^f^  I'cfers  only  to  the  locality.     If  the 

writer  had  wished  to  mention  their  descent,  he  would  have  used 
the  term  anQ-     Hence  he  infers  that  the  passage  only  intimates 

that  the  Philistines  had  at  one  period  dwelt  beside  the  Casluhim, 
but  that  afterwards  they  had  removed  to  other  settlements.  He 
adds  that  the  Biblical  writer  had  not  mentioned  the  descent  of 
that  tribe,  because  he  had  been  unable  to  ascertain  anything 
about  it.  However  much  may  appear  to  be  in  favour  of  this 
view,  we  cannot,  with  Delitzsch,  assent  to  its  correctness.  Is  it 
possible  to  conceive  that  at  that  period  the  Philistines  should 
ah'eady  have  lost  every  tradition  about  their  descent  and  their 
former  settlements  ?  But  if  they  had  preserved  any  such  tradi- 
tion, how  could  it  have  escaped  the  observation  of  so  careful  an 
enquirer  (who  manifestly  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  this 
subject)  as  the  writer  of  the  table  of  nations  ?  We  allow  that 
the  term  q^q  appHes,  in  the  first  instance,  to  locality.     But 

does  not  the  whole  table  of  nations  bear  the  character  of  an 
ethnographical  index  of  localities  ?  Besides,  what  other  term 
could  the  writer  have  employed  to  indicate  the  descent  of  the 
Philistines  from  the  Casluhim  ?  According  to  Knobel,  he  would 
certainly  have  used  the  expression  □nQ)  instead  of  q^q.     But 

he  also  admits  that  tliis  would  not  have  entirely  removed  the 
difficulty,  as  the  term  qhT^  ^^J  ^^^  ^®  understood  of  local  de- 
rivation. We  therefore  repeat  the  question,  how  could  the  writer 
have  indicated  more  distinctly  that  the  Philistines  were  a  colony 
of  Casluhim  ?  To  have  connected  them  with  the  descendants 
of  Mizraim  (like  the  other  branches  of  the  family  of  Mizraim) 
by  means  of  the  nota  ace.  p^,  would  have  been  to  misrepresent 

the  real  state  of  the  case.  Again,  from  the  peculiar  construction 
of  the  sentence,  it  was  impossible  to  introduce  them  sinq)ly  as 
the  descendants  of  tiie  Casluhim,      Any  want  of  precision  is 

l2 


164  B.    THE  COVENANT-PEOPLE.    (§  46.) 

readily  explained  from  the  parenthetic  character  of  the  sentence. 
As  for  the  Caphtorim  or  Cretan  PhiHstines,  Gen.  x.  14  distinctly 
proves  their  descent  from  Ham. 

We  hold  therefore  that  the  descent  of  these  two  tribes  of 
Philistines  from  Ham  is  established ;  and  that  the  opinion  of 
i]ivald  (i.,  p.  284)  and  oi  Bertheau  (p.  190,  &c.),  who,  referring 
to  2  Sam.  xx.  23,  2  Kings  xi.  4,  19,  hold  them  to  have  been  a 
Shemitic,  and  more  particularly  a  Corian  tribe,  must  be  rejected, 
as  also  that  of  Knobel,  who  would  trace  them  to  the  Shemitic 
tribe  Lud.  The  hj^Dothesis  of  Hitzig,  who  emj)loys  all  his  in- 
genuity and  learning  to  show  that  the  Philistines  were  of  Pelasgic 
origin,  and  that  any  relics  of  their  language  must  be  traced  to 
the  Sanscrit,  is  wholly  groundless. 


B.  THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 

DESCENT  OF  THE  COVENANT  PEOPLE. 

(Comp.  Bertheau,  1.  c,  p.  200,  and  following;  Eivald,  1.  c.  i., 
p.  327,  and  following;  Lengerke,  1.  c.  i.,  p.  208,  and  following; 
Knobel,  Table  of  Nations,  p.  168,  and  following.) 

§  46.  The  prophetic  declaration  of  the  common  ancestor  had 
already  pointed  out  the  race  of  Shem  as  that  from  the  tents  of 
which  salvation  was  to  be  expected  (comp.  §  28.)  From  Shem 
the  line  of  promise  descends  tlu'ough  ten  generations — (Shem, 
Arphaxad,  Shelah,  Eber,  Peleg,  Keu,  Serug,  Nahor,  Terah, 
Abram) — to  the  ancestor  of  the  chosen  race  (1.)  The  Biblical 
record  points  to  the  land  of  the  Chaldeans,  Ur-Chasdim  (2),  as 
the  place  where  the  youngest  members  of  the  above  Une  had 
originally  settled.  Thence  the  first  and  nomadic  tribes  of  the 
Terachitic  races  migrated  in  company  with  Terah,  the  father  of 
Abram,  from  motives  which  can  only  form  subject  of  conjec- 
tm-e  (3.)  To  this  division  of  races  belonged  also  the  chosen 
people,  who  bear  the  distinctive  name  of  Hebrews  (4.)  The  des- 
tination of  the  tribes  was  Canaan,  but  they  settled  by  the  way 
in  Haran,  in  Mesopotamia  (5.)  There  Terah  died.  Nahor, 
the  brother  of  Abram,  remained  in  Haran,  wliile  the  latter,  in 
consequence  of  an  express  command  of  God,  passed  into  Canaan, 
accompanied  by  Lot,  the  son  of  Haran,  Abraham's  brother,  who 
had  died  in  Ur-Chasdim  (6.) 


DESCENT  OF  THE  COVENANT-PEOPLE.    (§  46.) 


1G5 


(1.)  The  CHRONOLOGICAL  thread  of  sacred  history  is  now  con- 
nected with  the  GENEALOGY  OF  Shem,  as  before  the  flood  it  had 
been  with  that  of  Seth.  Here  as  before,  differences  of  numbers 
occur  in  the  Hebrew  text,  as  compared  with  the  LXX.  and  the 
Samaritan.  Conip.  J.  D.  Michaelis,  Sent,  de  Chi'onol.  Moses, 
a  Deluvie  ad  Abrah.,  Comment,  xv.,  and  the  treatises  of  Ber- 
theau  and  of  Reinke  (1.  c.  p.  76,  &c.)  mentioned  above  in  §  24,  3. 
In  tliis  case,  there  is  the  additional  difficulty,  that  the  Alexan- 
drians insert  between  Arphaxad  and  Shelah  a  name  which  does 
not  occur  in  the  other  two  texts,  viz.,  that  of  Kainan  (Kenan.) 
But  irrespective  of  all  the  critical  testimonies  in  favour  of  the 
reading-  in  the  original,  this  addition  becomes  more  than  suspi- 
cious, by  the  fact  that  they  give  the  same  numbers  to  Kainan  as  to 
Shelah.  But  as  Cainaan  is  mentioned  fourth  in  the  genealogy  of 
Seth  (ch.  v.),  just  as  here  in  the  version  of  the  LXX.,  it  seems 
probable  that  his  name  may,  for  some  reason  or  other,  have  been 
transferred  from  thence.  It  will  scarcely  be  deemed  a  decisive 
testimony  against  the  Hebrew  original,  that  Luke,  who  always 
makes  use  of  the  LXX.,  retains  this  name  in  his  genealogical 
table  (Luke  iii.  36.)  However,  recently  Eivald  (i.  p.  313)  has 
maintained  the  genuineness  of  the  name,  as  "  many  reasons" 
(wliich  he  does  not  recount)  are  in  favom-  of  it.  According 
to  the  statements  of  the  original,  Terah,  Abram's  father,  died 
A.M.  2081,  and  in  the  year  525  after  the  flood.  We  close  by 
giving  a  comparative  table  of  the  three  texts,  a  refers  to  the 
Hebrew  text,  b  to  the  LXX.,  and  c  to  the  Samaritan  version. 


F 

Duration  of 
Life. 

u  a 

o 

«  . 

-a  at 

a 

o 

o    . 
.2  ^ 

3 
0 

Shem, 

A 

B 
C 

100 
100 
100 

500   600 
500   600 
500   600 

Peleg, 

A 
B 
C 

30 
130 
130 

209 
209 
109 

239 
339 
239 

Akphaxad, 

1 

A 
B 
C 

35 
135 
135 

403 
400 

(430) 
303 

438 
535 
(565) 
438 

Reu, 

A 
B 
C 

30 
132 
132 

207 
207 
107 

239 
339 
239 

Canaak, 

A 
B 
C 

130 

330 

460 

Serug, 
Nahor, 

A 
B 
C 

30 
130 
130 

200 
200 
100 

230 
330 
230 

Shelah, 
Ebbr, 

A 

B 

C 

A 

B 
C 

30 
130 
130 

403 
330 
303 

433 
460 
433 

A 

B 

C 

2!» 
179 

(79) 
79 

119 
126 

(129) 
69 

148 
304 

(204) 
148 

34    430    464 
,n.           270     404 
]^J*         (370)  '  (504) 
134    270    404 

Tekah, 

a;  70 

B   70 
cl  70 

(135) 
(135 

205 
205 
145 

1G6  B.    THE  COVENANT-PEOPLE.    (§  46.) 

Manifestly  both  the  Samaritan  and  the  LXX.  version  attempt 
to  extend  the  interval  between  the  flood  and  Abram,  which  they 
deemed  far  too  short  in  the  clironology  of  the  original  text.  The 
same  difficulties  were  also  felt  at  a  later  period.  With  respect 
to  them,  G.  H.  v.  Schubert  ("  Original  World  and  Fixed  Stars," 
2d  ed.,  p.  275,  &c.)  remarks: — "Recent  chronologists  have 
deemed  this  period  far  too  short  to  account  for  the  existence  of 
80  large  a  number  of  men  as  are  implied  in  some  events  which 
took  place  at  the  time  of  Abraham.  But  if  we  consider  that,  as 
the  history  of  medicine  has  shown,  by  a  wonderful  process  of 
equalization  in  natm'e,  a  terrible  pestilence,  for  example,  is  suc- 
ceeded by  a  period  of  such  general  increase,  that  marriages  which 
for  many  years  had  been  without  childi-en,  are  blessed  with  them, 
and  twins  are  very  frequently  born — and  that  to  all  appearance 
(Gen.  X.  2,  6,  xi.  11,  13,  15,  17,  &c.)  something  similar,  but  on 
a  much  larger  scale,  had  taken  place  after  the  flood — if,  farther, 
we  suppose  that  dm'ing  the  first  generation  after  the  flood,  the 
sons  of  Noah  had  each,  on  an  average,  ten  chilcben,  making 
altogether  fifteen  pairs,  and  that  then  each  pair  had,  during 
each  succeeding  generation  of  about  thirty  years,  on  an  average, 
only  about  fom-  pairs,  or  eight  children,  the  number  of  men,  not 
including  any  surviving  parents,  grand-parents,  &c.,  may,  during 
fom-teen  generations,  or  420  years,  at  any  rate  have  amounted 
to  one  thousand  and  six  millions."  Considering  that  the  possi- 
bility of  such  an  increase  is  capable  of  demonstration,  its  appa- 
rent improbability,  wliich  cannot  have  escaped  the  writer,  must, 
according  to  the  rules  of  historical  criticism,  be  rather  considered 
an  evidence  for  the  accuracy  and  the  historical  character  of  the 
record. 

(2.)  In  the  table  of  nations  in  Gen.  x.  22,  we  find  among  the 
descendants  of  Shem,  besides  Arphaxad,  also  the  names  of 
Elam,  AsJmr,  Lud,  and  Aram,  whose  settlements  were  in  wes- 
tern Asia.  With  Joktan,  the  brother  of  Peleg,  a  number  of 
nations  separated  from  the  race  of  Arphaxad,  and  settled  in 
southern  Arabia,  while  the  main  body  of  the  race  remained  with 
its  other  branches  in  the  district  where  it  had  originally  settled. 
The  latter — as,  since  the  time  of  Bochart,  it  has  been  generally 
held,  except  by  Schley er,  1.  c,  p.  302,  &c.  (who  identifies  the 
land  of  Arphaxad  with  Sinear) — is  'Apf)a7ra'xlTi<i  (Ptol.  vi.  1),  or 
the  northern  part  of  Assyi'ia,  at  the  southern  boundary  of  Ar- 
menia. Bohlen  and  Benfey  interpret  the  name  as  meaning 
"  the  country  lying  close  by  Ai'ia"  (Arjapakshata.)     Michaelis, 

Gesenius,  and  Knobel  (deriving  it  from  ^^  \,  border,  and  -j^jj^ 

=  "1^3'  ^^^-  ^^^^i-  22'  whence  Q^i^r^^,  Chaldees)  render  it  by 

"  border  of  the  Chaldees."     In  a  similar  manner,  but  not  so  well, 


DESCENT  OF  THE  COVENANT-PEOPLE.    (§  46.)  1()7 

Ewald  derives  it  from  t__jj?  =  "  to  bind,"  "  to  make  firm,"  and 
renders  it  "  the  fortress  of  the  Chaldees."  With  this  the  state- 
ment of  Josephus  (Ant.  i.  G,  4)  agrees,  who  states  that  the  Chal- 
deans were  derived  from  Arpliaxad,  as  also  the  inference  derived 
from  Isa.  xxiii.  13,  and  from  other  data,  wliich  show  that  the 
original  settlements  of  the  Chaldeans  had  been  in  that  neigh- 
bom-hood.  Ewald  (i.  p.  333)  identifies,  with  great  probability, 
Uk-Chasdim,  the  country  of  Terah — which  name  he  regards  as 
that  given  at  the  time  of  the  author  of  Grenesis — with  this  Arra- 
pacliitis.  Rejecting  the  interpretation  of  Bertlieau,  who  derives 
it  from  the  Zend  root  Vare  =  country  (1.  c,  p.  205),  he  thinks 

that  a  comparison  with  the  Arabic  C__5;^  (according  to  Freitag.  v. 
and  viii.  "  continuit  se  in  loco,  permansit")  is  sufficient  to  prove 
that  it  meant  place  of  residence,  witli  which  the  translation  of 
the  LXX.,  x&jpa  TWi/  XaXhaiwv,  also  agrees.  The  most  common 
interpretation  is  that  first  propounded  by  Bochart  (1.  c.  L.  2,  c. 
6),  and  adopted  also  by  iJelitzsch  (p.  240),  according  to  wliich 
Ur  of  the  Chaldeans  is  the  same  as  the  Persian  fort  Ur,  men- 
tioned by  Ammianm  llarcelUiins  (xxv.  8,  7),  six  days' journey 
west  of  Hatra.  The  statement  of  J.  D.  Michaelis,  who,  for  the 
sake  of  his  favourite  hyjiothesis,  that  the  original  settlement  of 
the  Chaldeans  had  been  between  the  Black  and  the  Caspian  Seas, 
regards  the  word  Ur  as  an  appellative  (=  fire),  and  derives  it  from 
the  Naphtha  fountains,  near  the  town  of  Baku,  scarce  deserves 
mention.  Delitzsch  is  certainly  mistaken  in  tliinking  that  the 
view  of  Ewald  is  incorrect,  on  the  ground  that  as  Ur  stands  con- 
nected with  the  genitive  Kasdim,  it  cannot  refer  to  a  country, 
but  only  to  a  residence.  If  the  word  Ur  can  be  showm  to  mean 
place  of  residence  or  country,  his  statement  falls  to  the  ground. 
Comp. ,  for  example,  the  name  England  =  country  of  the  Angli. 

(3.)  On  the  ground  of  the  supposed  derivation  of  the  name 
Ur  from  the  Zend  root  Vare,  Bertlieau  (1.  c,  p.  20G),  and  after 
him  Lengerke  (i.  p.  213).  tliink  that  a  probable  irruption  of 
Arian  races  was  the  motive  for  the  MiGRATroN  of  Teiiah. 
Considering  the  uncertainty  of  all  such  h}iwtlieses,  it  is  better  to 
confine  one's-self  to  the  data  furnislied  in  the  book  of  Genesis. 
In  point  of  fact,  we  there  discover  (Gen.  xiv.)  traces  of  extensive 
migrations  among  the  races  at  this  time.  The  ii-ruption  of 
Chedorlaomer  in  Gen.  xiv.  took  place  shortly  before  the  birth  of 
Islimael,  or  eleven  years  after  the  entrance  of  Abram  into  Pales- 
tine (Gen.  xvi.  10.)  But  as  the  five  cities  in  the  valley  of  iSiddim 
had,  for  twelve  years  previous  to  tliis,  been  tributary  to  Chedor- 
laomer, the  first  expedition  of  that  king  must  have  taken  place 
just  about  the  period  when  Ternh  also  left  his  former  settle- 
ments. 

(4.)  Opinions  have  always  been  divided  as  to  the  origin  of  the 


168  p..    THE  COVENANT-PEOPLE.    (§  46.) 

najme  Hebrews.  Some  (among  tliem  latterly  especially  Ewald, 
i.  p.  134,  &c.,  and  Lengerke,  i.  p.  213,  &c.)  regard  it  as  a 
patronimic,  and  derive  it  from  the  patriarcli  Eher  (Gen.  x.  25, 
xi.  16.)  Others,  and  among  them  Hengstenherg  (Balaam,  p. 
206,  &c.)  consider  it  an  appellative,  and  accordingly  interpret 
the  term  by  "  Trans-Euphratics."  The  cliief  objection  to  the 
latter  view  is  that  'y^.yj  is  not  in  any  other  place  used  as  an  equi- 
valent for  ^nsn  liy-     -^^t  irrespective  of  the  fact  that  in  Num. 

xxiv.  24  it  is  used  in  this  sense  (for  the  connection,  the  parallel- 
ism, and  the  whole  tendency  and  bearing  of  the  prediction  mani- 
festly do  not  admit  the  application  of  the  term  ^-y^  to  the 

Israelites,  comp.  Hengstenherg,  1.  c.) — the  correctness  and  suit- 
ableness of  this  interpretation  is  proved  by  the  use  of  the  analo- 
gous terms  Qip-^^^,  "^^blp'  while  it  is  readily  accounted  for  by 

the  circumstance  that  the  Euphrates  was  to  the  inhabitants  of 
kSyria  and  of  Palestine  the  stream  /car  e^.  On  the  other  hand, 
many  and  decisive  arguments  can  be  urged  in  favour  of  this 
deriv  ition.  That  the  name  is  used  in  the  Old  Testament  only 
— "  ubi  alienigenaj  loquentes  inducuntur,  .  .  .  vel  ubi  ipsi 
Israelita3  de  se  ad  alienigenas  dicentes  sistuntur,  ...  vel 
ubi  aliis  gentibus  opponuntur."  ....  {Gesenius,  Thes., 
987) — shows  that  it  is  not  a  name  which  (as  Ewald  and  Len- 
gerke are  obliged  to  argue)  Israel  gave  to  itself,  but  one  of  which 
the  other  nations  among  whom  they  lived  made  use,  and  "  that 
it  originated  more  especially  with  the  Canaanites,  and  designated 
the  Jewish  emigrants  in  contradistinction  to  them"  (Hengsten- 
herg, 1.  c.)  E.  lleier,  in  his  dictionary  of  roots,  p.  273,  curi- 
ously remarks : — '^Everything  (??)  speaks  against  such  a  de- 
signation (as  Trans-Euphratics) ,  more  especially  that  manifestly 
the  name  must  have  originated  with  the  Hebrews  themselves, 
and  not  with  any  foreign  nation,  and  that  they  would  not  have 
adopted  it  if  it  had  come  from  the  Canaanites,  just  as  any  other 
victorious  nation  would  not  adopt  a  name  applied  to  it  by  those 
whom  it  had  conquered."  But  this  statement  completely  ignores 
two  facts — (1.)  That  the  ancestors  of  the  IsraeUtes  had  for  two 
hundred  years  dwelt  among  the  Canaanites  as  unimportant  and 
merely  tolerated  strangers,  and  not  as  conquerors  among  the 
conquered  ;  and  (2,),  that  in  the  Old  Testament  the  Israelites 
are  not  represented  as  adopting  the  name  in  question,  but  only 
as  using  it  by  way  of  accommodation  to  the  heathens  who  had 
applied  it  to  them.  But  Gen.  xiv.  13  (where  even  the  LXX. 
render  •i->5^>n  by  6  TrepaTr)^)  is  decisive  as  to  the  origin  of  the 

name.  We  read — "  And  there  came  one  that  had  escaped,  and 
told  Abram  the  Ibri."     On  this  passage  Hengstenherg  aptly  re- 


DESCENT  OF  THE  COVEN ANT-PEOPLK.    (§46.)  1  C9 

marks: — "  In  this  place,  while  the  term  which  the  fugitives  em- 
ployed is  retained,  it  appears  that  the  natives  sought  protection 
and  assistance  from  the  strangers."  Equally  decisive  is  Gen.  x. 
*2] ,  wliere,  after  Shem,  and  l:)efore  his  children  are  enumerated, 
it  is  added,  "  who  was  the  father  of  all  the  children  of  Eber." 
A  geographical  reference  is  the  more  natural  in  this  verse,  as 
immediately  before  (v.  19)  we  are  informed  that  the  Canaanites 
had  taken  possession  of  this  side  Jordan.  To  apply  the  expres- 
sion, "  all  the  children  of  Eber,"  in  the  sense  of  a  patronimic, 
would,  considering  that  Eber  is  only  mentioned  as  the  third 
member  from  Shem,  be  as  inadmissible  as  it  were  to  confine  the 
above  expression  to  the  Israelites  alone,  since  it  applies  to  all  the 
children  of  Eber.  Lastly — and  tliis  by  itself  refutes  the  ^dew  of 
our  opponents — it  is  quite  inconceivable  and  incongruous  with 
the  character  and  the  general  analogy  of  the  most  ancient  history 
of  Israel — (difficulties  which  only  increase,  if,  as  our  opponents 
would  have  it,  tliis  history  is  mythical) — to  suppose  that  the 
Israelites  woidd  have  called  themselves  after  a  person  of  whom 
tradition  had  preserved  nothing  beyond  the  mere  name,  (so 
that  it  would  have  been  much  more  natural  that  they  should 
have  called  themselves  after  the  name  of  Shem),  and  who 
would  yet  be  described  as  the  father  of  many  other  nations. 
This  argument  is  the  more  weighty,  as  they  did  not  even  take 
their  name  from  Ahram,  an  ancestor  whom  they  so  highly  re- 
vered.    The  interpretation  of  Eivald,  who  derives  the  name  from 

yj<s.  (:^  to  indicate,  explain,  interpret),  and  renders  it  by  "he 
that  speaketh  distinctly"  (Hist  of  the  Isr.,  i.,  p.  7),  is  a  hypothesis 
devoid  of  all  probability.  The  same  remark  applies  to  the  view 
of  E.  lleier  (comp.  1.  c),  according  to  whom  •^■2^  meant  ori- 
ginally "  contraction,  connection,"  hence  a  connected  and  com- 
pact mass  of  men — in  short,  a  people  or  a  nation  ;  nor  is  it  at 
all  supported  by  the  fancied  analogy  of  French  assumption  of  the 
title — "  Un  de  la  grande  nation." 

(5.)  No  -doubt  exists  as  to  the  position  of  Hauan  (LXX.  : 
Xap'pdv.)  It  is  the  Kdppai  of  the  Greeks  and  Eomans,  afterwards 
celebrated  by  the  defeat  of  Crassus,  and  which  Ammian.  Marc, 
xxiii.  3,  designates  as  "  antiquum  oppidum."  The  town  lies  in 
one  of  the  extensive  plains  of  Mesopotamia  (to  the  south-east  of 
Edessa),  and  is  specially  adapted  for  a  residence  of  Nomadic 
tribes.  Tliis  accounts  for  the  fact  that  the  progress  of  the  emi- 
grants, who  had  come  from  their  Chaldean  liome  in  the  north- 
oast,  was  arrested  in  this  district  for  a  considerable  time. 

(().)  Wlien  treating  of  the  table  of  nations  in  Gen.  x.  we 

leadily  admitted  that  the  names  there  mentioned  were  chiefly 

tiiose  of  laces,  and  not  of  individual  ancestors.   This  we  stated  from 

2 


170  B.    THE  COVENANT-PEOPLE.    (§  4'6.) 

a  conviction  that  the  writer  of  that  table  would  have  his  state- 
ments to  be  understood  in  tliis  manner.  This  seems  implied  in 
the  general  plan,  tendency,  and  details  of  that  table  itself,  as  also 
by  the  undoubted  import  and  form  of  most  of  the  names  in  it. 
But  in  the  genealogy  now  before  us  we  may  not  thus  generalize 
the  names,  since  the  wi'iter  of  it  manifestly  refers  to  individuals, 
as  appears  from  the  detailed  chronological  data,  and  from  the 
many  sjaecial  historical  reminiscences  which  attach  to  these 
names. 

Still,  it  were  a  sad  misunderstanding  if,  misled  by  the  con- 
tinual and  exclusive  prominence  given  to  leading  individuals,  and 
overlooking  the  occasional  statements  to  the  contrary,  we  were  to 
Hmit  the  original  number  of  settlers  to  those  few  persons  who 
are  expressly  named.  These  are  rather  represented  in  the  record 
as  heads  of  tribes,  or  Nomadic  chieftains.  To  this  conclusion 
the  statements  as  to  the  immense  number  of  tiocks  possessed  by 
Abram  and  Lot  (Gen.  xiii.  5 — 7)  point,  and  still  more  clearly 
the  circiunstances  that  Abram  could  furnish  for  an  expedition 
318  trained  servants,  born  in  liis  house  (Gren.  xiv.  14),  and  that 
at  a  later  period  Esau  could  meet  Jacob  at  the  head  of  400  men 
(Gen.  xxxiii.  1.)  Such  a  number  of  men  capable  of  bearing 
arms  pre-supposes  some  thousand  soids  at  least.  Even  if  some 
of  these  servants  belonged  to  a  different  tribe  (Gen.  xvi.  1,  xv. 
2),  the  principal  number  must  have  belonged  to  the  same  tribe 
as  the  chieftains,  and  have  stood  in  close  and  familiar  relation- 
ship with  the  family  of  their  prince  (Gen.  xv.  2,  xvi.  2,  x\di.  12, 
13,  xxiv.  2,  &c.)  The  more  the  family  of  the  chieftain  mcreased 
(irrespective  of  those  numbers  who  afterwards  separated  from 
the  family  and  founded  new  tribes),  the  more  did  any  differences 
between  the  descendants  of  the  chieftains  and  those  of  the  sub- 
ordinate family  disappear.  Tliis  process  of  equalisation  was  the 
more  rapid  that  not  the  least  trace  of  a  chtierence  of  castes  existed, 
and  that  the  servants  of  Abraham  were  by  circumcision  placed, 
in  reference  to  worship  and  religion,  on  the  same  level  with  his 
direct  descendants.  The  increase  of  the  side-brariches  of  the 
Terahitic  race  appears  to  have  been  hastened  and  furthered  by 
the  absorption  of  the  remainders  of  nations  whom  they  had  sub- 
jected, but  not  destroyed,  and  whose  country  they  had  occupied. 
It  was  otherAvise  with  the  Israehtes,  and  hence  their  development 
into  a  complete  nation  and  state  was  more  slow  than  that  of  tlie 
other  Terachites. 

In  conclusion  we  present  a  survey  of  the  various  branches 
of  the  race  of  Terah.  The  sons  of  Terah  were  Abram,  Nahor, 
and  Haran.  Haran  died  in  Ur-Chasdim,  leaving  beliind  him 
Lot,  Milcah,  and  Iscah.  According  to  Jewish  tradition  (Jos. 
Act.  i.  6,  §  5)  Iscah  is  the  same  as  Sarah,  the  wife  of  Abraham. 


GREAT  PERIODS  IN  THE  COVENANT  HISTORY.    (§  47.)         171 

comp.  Gen.  xx.  12.  Tlie  name  Sarai  (=  Principatus,  comp. 
§  58,  1)  may  have  only  been  given  to  her  at  her  mariiage,  when 
she  became  the  wife  of  a  chieftain.  Nahor  was  married  to 
Milcah.  The  whole  family  left  the  land  of  the  Chaldeans,  and 
settled  in  the  first  place  in  Mesopotamia,  in  the  neighbom-hood 
of  Charrae.  Nahor  remained  there,  and  according  to  Gen.  xxii, 
20 — 24  became  the  ancestor  of  twelve  Nahor itic  tribes.  Ahram 
journeys  in  company  with  Lot  to  Canaan,  where  the  two  tribes 
soon  separate.  Moab  and  Annnon,  the  sons  of  Lot,  become  the 
ancestors  of  two  nations,  the  Moahites  and  the  Armnonites,  who 
inhabit  the  country  east  of  the  land  of  promise.  The  descendants 
of  Ishmael,  Abram's  son,  form  as  the  Ishmaelitic  Arabs  another 
offshoot  from  the  main  tribe  (Gen.  xxv.  12 — 18.)  So  do  the 
sons  of  Abram  by  Keturah  or  the  Ketiirian  Arabs  (Gen.  xxv. 
1 — 4) ,  of  whom  the  Midianites  were  the  principal  branch.  These 
two  races  occupy  extensive  tracts  along  the  north  and  north-east 
of  Arabia,  and  bear  the  title  of  Arabized  Arabs  (Arabi  facti, 
adscititii)  in  contradistinction  to  the  southern  or  JoldanidiG 
Arabs  (Gen.  x.  26 — 29),  who  call  themselves  Arabic  Arabs  or 
real  Arabs  (comp.  Hottinger  Hist.  Orient,  p.  210 ;  Herhelot 
Bibl.  Orient,  p.  501 ;  Ahul/eda  Hist.  Anteisl.  ed.  Fleischer  p. 
281.)  Lastly,  Esau  or  Udom,  the  grandson  of  Abram,  forms 
the  powerfid  offshoot  known  as  the  Edomites,  who  take  mount 
Seir,  and  from  whom  the  tribe  of  the  Amalekites  sprung.  The 
latter  soon  become  an  independent  nation,  and  occupy  the 
southern  border  of  Palestine.  After  all  these  offslioots,  the 
Israelites  alone  remain,  who  develop  more  slowly  but  more  cer- 
tainly than  others  into  an  independent  nation,  being  always 
under  special  Divine  superintendence  and  guidance. 


THE  GREAT  PERIODS  IN  THE  COVENANT-HISTORY. 

§  47.  The  liistory  of  the  Old  Covenant  passes,  from  its  com- 
mencement to  its  termination,  tlu'ough  six  stages.  In  the  first 
stage  it  is  only  a  yxuvly -history.  During  that  period  we  are 
successively  made  acquainted  ^\dtl^  each  of  the  three  patriarchs, 
Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob.  The  twelve  sons  of  the  latter  form 
the  basis  of  the  national  development.  In  the  second  stage 
these  tivelve  tribes  grow  into  a  people,  which  under  Moses  attains 
independence  and  receives  its  laws  and  worship.  Under  Joshua 
it  conquers  its  country,  while  during  the  time  of  the  Judges  the 
covenant  is  to  be  farther  developed  on  the  liasis  of  what  had 
alreiidy  been  obtained.     The  third  stnge  commences  with  the 


172  B.    THE  COVENANT-PEOPLE.    (§  47.) 

institution  of  royalty.  By  the  side  of  the  royal  office,  and  as  a 
counterpoise  and  corrective  to  it,  the  prophetical  office  is  insti- 
tuted, wliich  is  no  longer  confined  to  isolated  appearances,  but 
remains  a  continuous  institution.  The  separation  of  the  one 
commonwealth  into  two  monarchies  divides  tliis  period  into  two 
sections.  The  fourth  stage  comprises  the  exile  and  return. 
Prophetism  survives  the  catastrophe  of  the  exile,  so  as  to  re- 
arrange and  to  revive  the  relations  of  the  jDcople  who  retm'ned  to 
their  country,  and  to  open  the  way  for  a  further  development. 
The  FIFTH  stage,  or  the  time  of  expectation,  commences  with  the 
cessation  of  prophecy,  and  is  intended  to  prepare  a  place  for  that 
salvation  wliich  is  now  to  be  immediately  expected.  Lastly,  the 
SIXTH  stage  comprises  the  time  of  the  fulfilment,  when  salva- 
tion is  to  be  exhibited  in  Christ.  The  covenant-people  reject 
the  salvation  so  presented,  the  Old  Covenant  terminates  in  judg- 
ment against  the  covenant-people,  but  prophecy  still  holds  out  to 
them  hopes  and  prospects  for  the  future. 

A 


FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  COVENANT  HISTORY, 


THE  FAMILY. 


(    175    ) 


CHARACTER  AND   IMPORT  OF  THIS   STAGE  IN 
THK  HISTORY  OF  THE  OLD  COVENANT. 


§  48.  It  is  the  purport  of  tliis  period  to  lay  a  foundation  on 
which  the  great  salvation  is  ultimately  to  appear  ;  during  its 
course  the  nation  among  which  this  salvation  is  to  develop  is 
being  prepared,  and  the  germ  of  that  deliverance,  which  is  to 
unfold  in  and  with  this  people,  appears  from  the  very  com- 
mencement. Hence  it  is  the  goal  of  the  whole  history  of  this 
period  to  form  the  chosen  race  into  a  nation.  But  as,  according 
to  §  35,  the  preparation  of  salvation  was  no  longer  to  be  entrusted 
to  all  mankind,  but  was  to  have  one  particular  starting-point, 
so  that  one  individual,  and  in  him  his  posterity,  were,  for  this 
purpose,  to  be  separated  from  the  existing  race,  it  will  necessarily 
be  characteristic  of  this  period  of  histroy  that  it  should  move 
within  the  narrow  circle  of  a  family.  Hence  we  also  infer  that 
the  principal  element  in  the  development  of  that  period  must  be 
the  increase  of  that  family ,  so  that  the  one  individual  who  was 
called  and  separated  might  unfold  into  a  i3lurality.  For  how- 
ever it  must  necessarily  have  commenced  wth  the  individual, 
manifestly  ihe  progress  in  the  development  of  salvation  demanded 
that  this  unit  should  become  a  multitude.  If  the  germ  of  salva- 
tion was  not  always  to  remain  a  germ  ;  if  the  different  aspects, 
tendencies,  and  capabilities  which  lay  yet  undeveloped  in  this 
germ  were  to  appear  and  to  assume  form,  they  could  not  continue 
or  remain  concentrated  in  one  individual.  For  human  nature 
is  so  limited  that  the  totality  of  forces  and  capacities  can  only 
concentrate  in  one  individual^  so  long  as  they  remain  capabilities 
and  commencements,  and  that  in  the  farther  development  only 
some  of  them,  and  especially  those  which  are  peculiarly  strong 
in  that  individual,  ripen  into  realities,  while  the  rest  remain  in 
germ.  It  is  therefore  necessary  that  a  number  of  individuals 
should  mutually  complement  each  other,  in  order  that,  in  the 
totality  of  forces,  each  of  them  may  separately  evolve. 


176  THE  FAMILY.    (§  48.) 

(1.)  As  the  commencement  of  the  preparation  of  salvation 
requires  the  selection  of  one  indi^'idual,  and  as  its  progress 
depends  on  the  development  of  this  Monas  to  a  plm'ality,  so, 
vice  versa,  at  its  goal,  it  must  return  again  from  being  a 
plurahty  to  a  unity.  For  when  salvation  was  perfected,  and 
about  to  be  offered  to  all  mankind  for  whom  it  had  been 
prepared,  it  was  not  to  be  presented  as  something  broken  up  into 
fragments  and  distributed  among  a  number  of  individuals,  in 
which  case  it  would  have  passed  away  without  producing  any 
effect.  But  this  concentration  and  combination  of  all  the  various 
forms  in  which  salvation  had  appeared  was  not  only  demanded 
by  the  objective  purport  of  salvation  when  complete,  but  also  by 
its  subjective  character.  By  itself,  and  irrespective  of  its  external 
object,  salvation  was  only  completed  when  unity  was  again 
attained,  for,  as  the  commencement,  so  the  completion  'Of  a 
development  pre-supposes  such  unity.  But  what  was  impossible 
to  those  who  had  occupied  the  intermediate  place,  who  had  been 
the  representatives  of  salvation  during  its  development,  because 
they  were  merely  men  and  hence  limited,  that  became  possible 
in  Him  who  closed  and  summed  up  the  series.  He  exliibited 
salvation  in  all  its  perfection,  because  He  was  elevated  above  all 
such  limitations,  uniting  in  His  nature  both  divine  and  human 
powers.  Thus  was  the  history  of  the  covenant  to  commence  with 
a  ]\Ionad,  which  was  to  contain  in  germ  all  that  was  to  be  finally 
evolved  ;  during  its  progress  towards  this  goal  these  manifesta- 
tions were  to  be  exliibited  in  a  plurality  of  individuals,  wliile  at 
its  completion  all  the  separate  manifestations  were  again  to  be 
combined  and  reduced  to  a  unity,  and  to  be  thus  completed  and 
absolutely  perfected. 

This  circumstance  imparts  a  siugidar  importance  to  the  most 
ancient  history  of  Israel.  It  stands  in  peculiar  and  living  con- 
nection with  the  total  development,  both  with  that  period  in 
which  the  totality  of  this  miity  of  capabilities  unfolded  into 
actual  plurality,  and  also  with  the  completion,  when  this  plu- 
rality was  again  to  become  the  unity  wliich  it  had  been  at  the 
commencement,  while,  at  the  same  time,  that  which  had  merely 
been  capability  had  then  rij^ened  into  perfection. 

We  glance,  in  the  first  place,  at  the  relation  betiveen  the 
earlier  and,  the  later  history,  or,  rather,  between  the  patriarchal 
family  and  the  nation  wliich  had  sprung  from  that  family.  With 
that  family  commences  not  only  the  history  of  Israel,  it  also 
becomes  the  prototype  thereof,  according  to  wliich  it  is  after- 
wards to  assimie  sliafie  and  form.  For  in  that  family  the  germs 
and  capabilities  of  the  character,  tendency,  and  aim,  which  in 
the  regular  farther  development  of  the  famil}^  into  a  nation  are 
unfolded,  already  appear  in  all  their  distinctness  and  fulness. 


CHARACTER  AND  IMPORT  OF  THE  PATRIARCHAL  AGE.    (§  48.)   177 

Hence  the  history  of  the  Patriarclis  is  the  commencement  and 
the  type  of  all  later  history,  both  in  its  divine  and  in  its  human 
aspects — both  as  exhibitinf;:;  human  liberty  and  as  manifesting 
divine  grace.  The  character  and  the  leadings  of  the  ancestors 
of  Israel  exhibit  the  same  peculiarities  as  those  of  the  people 
who  sprung  from  them,  at  least  in  so  far  and  so  long  as  it 
did  not  forsake  its  source  of  life  or  forget  its  character  and 
destiny.  The  peculiarities  of  Patriarchal  times,  as  represented 
in  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  (with,  whom,  in  some  respects, 
Joseph  may  be  classed,  as  forming  a  special  type  of  life),  reflect 
to  future  generations  in  Israel  their  own  likeness.  Besides,  the 
standing  designation  of  the  God  of  Israel  as  the  God  of  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  many  passages  in  the  history,  teaching, 
and  predictions  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament, 
prove  that  this  significancy  of  Patriarchal  history  was  not 
unnoticed  by  the  people.  As  an  instance,  we  quote  the  pro- 
phetical utterance  in  Isa.  li.  1,2: 

"  Hearken  to  me,  ye  that  follow  after  righteousness, 
Ye  that  seek  Jehovah  ! 
Look  unto  the  rock  whence  ye  are  hewn. 
And  to  the  hole  of  the  pit  whence  ye  are  digged. 
Look  unto  Abraham  your  father. 
And  unto  Sarah  that  bare  you  ! 
For  I  called  him  alone. 
And  blessed  liim  and  increased  him. 

The  relation  subsisting  between  the  Patriarchal  period  and 
that  of  the  completion  consisted  in  this,  that  in  both  all  the 
powers  and  manifestations  of  salvation  were  concentrated  in  one 
individual — in  the  first  case  merely  as  capabilities  and  com- 
mencements ;  in  the  second  as  evolution  and  comi)letion.  This 
im.parts  to  the  stage  of  the  commencement  a  greater  similarity 
with  that  of  the  end  than  is  found  in  any  of  the  intervening 
stages.  This  totality  and  fulness,  this  unity  and  concentration 
in  the  manifestation  of  salvation,  implied,  despite  the  undeveloped 
character  at  that  period,  so  evident  a  tyjie  of  its  completion  that, 
even  more  distinctly  than  the  later,  it  appeared  as  an  anticipation 
of  evangelical  elements.  This  characteristic  comes  out  more 
clearly  from  the  absence  of  the  law  during  this  the  age  of  child- 
hood in  history  (as  in  every  age  of  childhood. )  True,  as  in  the 
relation  to  which  we  have  above  referred,  so  in  this  instance 
also,  the  difierence  and  the  gradation  from  oviroi  to  ovkgtl  (in 
the  first  case  the  law  has  not  yet  intervened  ;  in  the  second,  it  is 
already  fulfilled)  obtains  ;  but  still  the  ov  common  to  both 
remains  their  common  characteristic. 

VOL.  I.  M 


178  THE  FAMILY.    (§  49.) 

§  49.  All  the  revelations  and  leadings  of  God,  and  all  the 
hopes  and  resolutions  of  the  chosen  family,  move,  during  this 
period,  round  these  two  points — the  seed  of  promise  and  the 
land  of  promise.  The  seed  of  pkomise,  the  substance  of  this 
history,  the  medium  by  which  salvation  is  to  be  prepared,  is  to 
be  the  fruit  of  generation.  In  its  first  as  in  its  last  member 
tliis  was  to  be  irapa  (pvaw,  that  from  the  first  the  truth  which 
was  to  be  manifested  in  the  end  should  appear,  viz.,  that  the 
salvation  about  to  be  developed  could  not  reach  its  goal  by 
natural  means,  but  only  by  those  of  grace.  The  same  law, 
according  to  which  the  connection  and  the  ordinary  bonds  of 
nature  were  rent  asunder  (in  order  that  the  bonds  of  grace  and 
of  calling  might  become  the  more  firm) ,  and  on  which  depended 
the  selection  of  the  individual  who  was  to  commence  this  history, 
is  also  continued  during  the  course  of  that  history.  We  notice 
its  continuance  during  the  first  stages  of  this  history  in  the 
peculiarities  of  generation  ;  it  occasions  the  separation  of  several 
of  the  descendants  of  the  family,  until  at  last  the  twelve  heads 
of  tribes  become  the  basis  for  a  proper  national  development. 
We  may,  therefore,  sum  up  the  contents  and  the  object  of  this 
period,  so  far  as  it  bears  on  the  appearance  of  the  promised  seed, 
in  the  following  statement :  one  branch  is  taken  from  the  tree 
of  the  Shemitic  race,  to  ivhich  the  promise  had  been  given 
(%  28J  ;  it  is  transplanted  into  other  soil,  ivhere,  under  the 
fostering  care  of  the  great  husbandman,  it  takes  root  ;  there  it 
is  purged  from  all  offshoots,  which  are  the  product  of  nature, 
and  so  grows  up  into  one  trunk,  which  shoots  into  twelve  strong 
branches.  Of  no  less  importance  is  the  connection  between  this 
period  and  the  land  of  promise.  There,  and  nowhere  else,  was 
the  foundation  for  the  new  development  to  be  laid ;  there  and 
nowhere  else  was  the  promised  seed  to  be  conceived  and  born  ; 
there  was  the  history  of  Israel  to  pass  through  its  age  of  child- 
hood, in  order  that,  from  the  first,  the  mutual  relation  between 
the  country  and  the  people  might  exercise  its  powerful  influence. 
If  the  selection  of  Palestine  to  be  a  nursery  to  the  kingdom  of 
God  was  neither  casual  nor  groundless  (§  43) ,  and  if  a  lively 
and  mutual  relation  obtains  between  a  country  and  its  inhabi- 
tants, this  influence  was  also  to  be  exercised  during  the  infancy 
of  tins  nation,  because  the  time  of  childhood  is  also  that  when 


CHARACTER  AND  IMPORT  OF  THE  PATRIARCHAL  AGE.    (§  50.)   179 

influences  of  this  kind  are  most  readily  received.  There,  where 
the  chosen  race  was  to  dwell  after  it  had  growTi  into  a  nation, 
and  where  it  was  to  discharge  its  peculiar  task,  it  was  also  to 
spend  the  time  of  its  infancy,  in  order  that  the  people  might 
ever  regard  it  as  their  proper  home,  and  that,  as  such,  it  might 
obtain  that  deep  hold  on  them  which  only  a  home  has  upon  the 
heart.  For  a  man's  home,  to  wliich  his  aftections  attach,  is  the 
place  where  lie  was  horn,  where  he  has  spent  his  childhood,  witli 
its  joys  and  its  sorrows,  with  its  hopes  and  its  longings.  And, 
in  truth,  tliis  object  was,  in  this  case,  attained  in  larger  measure 
than  in  any  other  recorded  in  history.  Again,  the  land  of 
promise  was,  in  the  first  place,  given  to  the  chosen  family  only 
as  a  land  of  pilgrimage,  while  its  possession  ivas  only  pi^omised 
for  the  future.  Thus  was  faith  to  grow  and  to  become  streng- 
thened. The  circumstance,  also,  that  in  its  transition  from  being 
a  family  to  becoming  a  nation,  Israel  had  occasion  for  four 
centuries  to  be  absent  from  the  land  of  its  childhood,  of  its  pros- 
pects and  holies,  has  its  deep  meaning,  which  will  appear  in  the 
com-se  of  history  (§  92,  7.) 

§  50.  If  we  consider  the  peculiar  revelation  vouchsafed  by  the 
Lord  during  this  period,  we  shall  anticipate  that,  as  a  basis  was 
to  be  laid  for  a  new  development,  and  as  its  beginnings  were  even 
then  to  appear,  a  more  than  common  and  peculiarly  marked 
manifestation  of  God's  superintendence  should  take  place.  In 
point  of  fact,  we  find  that  historical  reality  quite  answers  tliis 
expectation.  True,  the  fresh  commencement  now  made  cannot 
be  the  same  as  the  first  or  paradisical,  because  sin,  which  had 
put  an  end  to  the  latter,  was  not  yet  overcome  and  removed. 
The  time  when  the  Lord  dwelt  by  and  with  man  in  the  garden 
of  Eden,  when  He  walked  continuously  and  visibly  near  him 
(Gen.  iii.  8),  cannot  return  until  renovated  earth  becomes  again 
a  Paradise,  and  man  is  restored  to  his  original  position.  But 
this,  so  far  from  being  the  commencement  of  the  history  which 
now  opens,  cannot  even  be  its  goal  and  end,  but  only  the  goal 
and  end  of  a  history  which  at  that  time  lay  in  the  far  distant, 
and  the  commencement  of  which  was  to  coincide  with  the  close 
of  our  history  (Rev.  xxi.  xxii.)  The  goal  of  our  history  is  the 
incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God,  when  the  whole  fulness  of  the 

m2 


180  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

Divine  being  entered  bodily  and  personally  into  essential  and 
permanent  union  with  human  nature.  This  goal  was  to  be  at- 
tained in  the  coiu-se  of  a  historical  development,  and  hence  by  a 
successive  progress,  in  wliich  this  development  continually  un- 
folded and  approximated  towards  the  goal.  In  patriarchal 
history  we  witness  the  first  beginnings  of  tliis  development. 
Hence  we  shall  also  expect  there  to  meet  only  the  first,  the  most 
simple,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  most  elementary  manifesta- 
tions of  the  Divine  plenitude  of  miracles  and  of  prediction.  In 
point  of  fact,  liistory  answers  this  expectation.  The  communi- 
cation and  interpositions  of  Divine  power  and  wisdom  generally 
take  place  without  any  intervening  medium,  i.e.,  almost  always 
God  Himself  performs  the  miracle  or  makes  the  prediction,  while 
during  the  progress  of  the  succeeding  historical  stages  tliis  state 
of  matters  is  gradually  changed.  We  have  not  yet  reached  the 
period  when  Divine  j)ower  and  knowledge  are  assimilated  with 
the  covenant  history,  and  have  become  a  gift  which  God  com- 
municates to  men,  and  over  which  man  has  control,  as  having 
been  entrusted  to  liim  as  his  property,  although,  of  course,  within 
certain  defined  limits.  Hence  at  that  period  miracles  are  not 
yet  performed  by  man ;  rarely  even  does  he  utter  predictions. 
On  the  contrary.  Divine  power  and  knowledge  interposes  side  by 
side  with  human  activity,  and  as  something  foreign  and  external 
to  it  (comp.  §  97, 1.)  Hence  also  the  forms  which  revelation  takes 
in  patriarchal  history  are  chiefly  either  that  of  immediate  inivard 
communication,  when  God  speaks  in  the  soul  of  man  without 
employing  the  medium  of  the  senses,  or  that  of  Theophany,  when, 
by  way  of  revealing  Himself,  He  assumes  human  form.  The 
latter  manifestation  was  either  internal,  being  then  a  vision  or  a 
dream;  or  external,  when  He  appeared  in  bodily  form  (1.)  The 
principal,  and  perhaps  the  only  form  of  this  second  mode  of 
Theophany,  is  by  means  of  what  is  designated  as  the  Angel  of 
the  Lord,  in  whom  Jehovah  appears  and  manifests  Himself  to 
the  senses  (2.)  This  mode  of  manifestation  occiu-s  for  the  first 
time  in  patriarchal  history. 

(1.)  It  would  be  mere  idle  presumption  to  attempt  ascertain- 
ing in  every  case  why  the  Lord  had  chosen  one  or  other /o/v/i  of 
manifestation  ;  but  it  falls  within  our  province  to  enquire,  in 
every  particular  instance,  what  form  had  actually  been  selected. 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LORD.  (§  50.)  181 

We  are  indeed  convinced  that  Scripture  attributes  the  same  im- 
portance to  what  is  revealed,  whether  it  have  been  by  the  medium 
of  inward  communication,  of  a  ch-eam,  of  a  vision,  or  of  a  literal 
Theophany.  At  the  same  time,  we  expect  to  find,  in  every  case, 
sufficient  indications  for  inferring;,  beyond  doubt,  in  what  form 
the  revelation  had  taken  place  ;  and  we  woidd  therefore  repudiate 
the  arbitrary  criticism  of  those  who  refer  events  to  dreams  or 
visions,  as  it  suits  their  o'vvn  peculiar  system.  On  the  contrary,  we 
feel  that  we  are  only  warranted  in  speaking  of  a  dream,  or  in  sup- 
posing an  ecstatic  state  of  mind,  when  such  is  expressly  mentioned 
in  the  Biblical  record.  In  every  other  case  we  suppose  a  state 
of  wakefulness  and  of  consciousness.  But,  on  the  same  ground, 
we  also  assume  a  real  Theophany  only  when  such  apparitions  of 
God  are  expressly  mentioned.  All  those  revelations  to  the  Patri- 
archs in  which,  without  farther  defining  the  medium,  we  simply 
read  that  God  spake  to  man,  we  class  with  what  we  have  desig- 
nated as  inward  communications. 

(2.)  The  oj)inions  of  interpreters  on  the  question  who  the 
AxGEL  OF  THE  LoRD  was,  may  be  ranged  under  two  classes 
One  party  understand  it  to  have  been  a  manifestation  of  God  in 
human  form,  patent  to  the  senses,  and  hence  a  prototj^pe  of  the 
incarnation  of  God  in  Christ.  Others  tliink  that  this  was  merely 
an  ordinary  angel,  but  that  he  is  represented  as  Jehovah,  and 
even  sjjeaks  and  acts  in  that  character,  inasmuch  as  he  appears 
in  the  name  and  as  the  representative  of  Jehovah.  The  former 
view  was  that  of  the  earliest  theology  of  the  Synagogue,  and  was 
formulated  in  the  doctrine  about  the  Metatron,  who  had  emanated 
from  God,  was  equal  to  Him,  and  in  whom  He  revealed  Himself. 
But  in  course  of  time  foreign  elements  were  mixed  up  with  this 
view  (comp.  Hengstenherg ,  Christol.,  i.  1,  p.  239,  &c.)  Most  of 
the  fathers  and  of  the  old  Protestant  di\dnes  also  advocated  this 
opinion  {Hengstenherg,  1.  c,  p.  249.)  Latterly  it  has  been  most 
distinctly  and  fully  set  forth  by  Hcngstenherg,  1.  c,  pp.  219 — 
251.  With  the  fethers  and  the  old  Protestant  divines,  he  regards 
the  Angel  of  the  Lord  as  God  manifest,  the  Logos  of  the  Chris- 
tian dogma  of  the  Trinity,  and  supposes  that  this  mode  of  \dew- 
ing  the  subject  was  at  least  so  far  current  throughout  the  Old 
Testament  history  of  revelation  as  to  aftbrd  a  basis  for  the  teach- 
ing of  John  about  the  Logos  (comp.  Hengstenhergs  Comment, 
on  Revelation,  i.,  p.  G13.)  Even  before  that  time.  Sack  (Com- 
mentatio  Theoll,  Bonn,  1821)  had,  in  treating  of  this  subject, 
declared  that  the  expression  "  Angel  of  the  Lord,"  was  equivalent 
to  Jehovah,  but  had  at  the  same  time  maintained  that  it  only 
indicated  the  mode  in  which  Jehovah  appeared,  but  not  a  dis- 
tinct personality.  Hence  he  preferred  rendering  the  term  by 
"  embassy,"  rather  than  by  "  ambassador"  (comp.  his  Clu-istian 


182  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

Apologetics,  2d  ed.,  p.  172.)  In  the  wake  of  these  two  writers, 
the  author  of  this  history  had  attempted  to  follow,  in  a  paper 
that  appeared  in  Tkolucic's  "  Anzeiger"  for  1846,  Nos.  11 — 14. 
There  we  endeavoured  to  show,  that  in  the  Old  Testament  the 
Maleach  Jeliovah  was  "  God  appearing,  manifesting  Himself, 
entering  into  the  limitations  of  space  and  time,  and  accessible  to 
the  senses,  in  contradistinction  to  the  invisible  God,  whose  super- 
renoual  existence  is  far  above  all  hmitations  of  space  and  time, 
and  hence  not  perceptible — which,  however,  does  not  necessarily 
imply  that  men  were  quite  conscious  whether  this  distinction  was 
merely  ideal  or  also  real,  and  whether  it  was  to  be  viewed  as 
merely  temporary,  or  as  permanent,  and  based  on  the  nature  of 
the  Deity."  The  chief  portions  of  this  paper  were  reproduced  by 
us  in  the  j^rs^  edition  of  the  present  work.  The  same  view  has 
also  been  advocated  by  Delitzsch  (Bibl.  and  Proph.  Theol.  p. 
289),  Nitzsch  (System),  T.  Beck  (Christ.  Dogmat.),  KeU 
(Joshua,  p.  87),  Hdvernick  (Old  Test.  Theol,  p.  73,  &c.), 
Ehrard  (Christ.  Dogmat.,  vol.  i.),  J.  P.  Lange  (Posit.  Dogmat. 
i.,  586),  Stier  (Isa.  not  Pseudo-Isa.,  p.  758,  &c.),  and  others. 

The  other  interpretation  of  the  term  "  angel  of  the  Lord"  has 
been  advocated  by  Angus  fin  (De  Trin.  iii.  11),  and  since  then 
by  Roman  Catholic  theologians,  in  order  thus  to  establish  the 
worshijD  of  angels,  and  by  Socinians,  Armenians,  and  Rationalists, 
from  a  dislike  to  the  orthodox  view  of  the  Trinity.  But  of  late 
some  who  were  free  from  these  prejudices,  and  whose  opinion  is 
entitled  to  all  weight,  have  pronounced  in  favour  of  it.  Among 
them  we  mention  Steudel,  in  his  Program  for  1830,  and  in  his 
Old  Testament  Theol.  p.  252,  &c.,  Hofmann  (Predict,  and  Ful- 
filment i.  127,  &c.,  and  in  his  Script.  Demonstr.  i.  154 — 159, 
321 — 340),  Baumgarten  (Comment,  i.  1  p.  195),  Tholuck 
(Comment,  on  the  Gospel  of  Jolm,  6th  ed.,  p.  52),  Pelt  (Theol. 
Encycl.  p.  241),  and  latterly,  retracting  his  former  view  and 
supporting  that  of  Hofmann,  Fr.  Delitzsch  (Comment,  on 
Genesis  p.  249,  &c.)  Steudel  and  Hofmann  differ  in  this  respect, 
that  according  to  the  former  the  Maleach  Jehovah  was  an  angel 
specially  commissioned  by  the  Lord  for  every  individual  case, 
leaving  it  uncertain  whether  one  and  the  same  angel  was  always 
employed,  while  according  to  Hofmann  it  is  always  one  and  the 
same  j^rince  of  angels,  who  at  first  as  Maleach  Jehovah,  then  as 
Captain  of  the  host  of  the  Lord  (Joshua  v.  14),  and  as  the  angel 
of  His  presence  (Isa.  Ixiii.  9),  bearing  the  name  oi  3Iichael  (Dan. 
X.  13,  21,  xii.  1),  presides  over  the  commonwealth  and  history  of 
Israel  as  the  representative  of  Jehovah  (Prechct.  and  Fulfil,  pp. 
131, 132.)  But  in  his  latest  work  Hofmann  has  so  far  modified 
his  views  as  to  state  that  although  it  was  always  a  definite  angel 
(if  Jehovah  who  performed  one  or  another  duty,  he  was  not 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LOUD.  (§  50.)  183 

selected  for  this  purpose  once  and  for  all,  it  being  still  held  hj 
him  that  Israel  has  its  special  prince  and  angel,  who  bears  the 
name  of  Michael  (Script.  Demonstr.  i.  157.) 

Barth  has  attempted  to  combine  in  a  peculiar  manner  the 
views  of  Hengstenberg  and  of  Hofmcmn  (The  Angel  of  the 
Covenant,  a  contribution  to  Christology  in  a  letter  to  Schelling, 
Leipz.  1845.)  With  Hengstenberg  he  holds  that  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  was  a  Divine  person,  with  Hofmann  that  he  appeared 
as  an  angel  and  as  a  creature,  and  he  combines  these  two  state- 
ments by  supposing  that  the  Logos  had  at  a  former  period  taken 
upon  Himself  the  form  of  an  angel  in  the  same  manner  in  which 
He  afterwards  took  upon  Himself  the  form  of  a  man.  But  this 
view  is  wholly  unsupported,  and  deserves  no  farther  notice. 

Our  own  position  with  reference  to  the  question  under  discussion 
is  similar  to  that  of  Delitzsch.  However  decidedly  and  zealously 
we  had  formerly  advocated  the  view  of  Hengstenberg,  and  con- 
troverted that  of  Hofmann,  we  have  to  confess  that  a  renewed 
study  of  the  subject  has  convinced  us  that  we  had  been  mistaken. 
We  felt  it  no  easy  matter  to  surrender  a  long-cherished  convic- 
tion, but  truth  has  compelled  us  to  yield,  and  to  adopt  the  view 
of  Hofmann. 

Our  former  reasoning  has  by  many  been  deemed  successful, 
and  frequently  referred  to  with  approbation.  We  therefore  re- 
produce it  in  the  form  in  which  it  appeared  in  the  first  edition 
of  this  work,  and  add  to  it  a  justification  of  our  change  of  views. 
We  wrote  as  follows : — 

"  Even  the  name  is  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  view  that  the 
person  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah  was  unique  and  the  same  on  all 
occasions.  Grammatically,  the  expression  XT\TV  "Hi^^TD  ^^^ 
D^n^^^n  TTt^S'O'  ^^^  o^^y  ^  rendered  tlie  angel  of  Jehovah,  i.e. 
the  definite  and  known  angel  of  the  Lord,  called  so  Kar  e^o-)(fjv. 
It  is  indeed  true  that  the  circumstance  that  these  two  forms 
have  the  character  of  definite  article,  does  not  always  necessarily 
imply  '  an  absolute  identity  with  sometliing  known,  but  may 
arise  from  a  graphic  mode  of  representation,  which  transports 
the  reader  into  the  scene'  (Baumgarten.)     Thus  i^-s  n  is  the 

son  of  Ishai,  of  whom  the  passage  speaks,  but  does  not  imply 
that  Ishai  had  not  other  sons  also.  Similarly  in  Malachi  ii.  7 
the  priest  is  called  jnifc^n!i~nin''  "nfc^SD'  ^^^^  '^^^  Hagg.  i.  13  the 
'prophet  "p^xv  "^T^jSq'  ^^^  which  cases  it  were  manifestly  impossible 
to  suppose  that  these  parties  Avere  identical  with  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  so  frequently  mentioned  in  Genesis,  &c.  But  still 
whenever  we  read  about  tlie  son  of  Ishai  without  the  express  ad- 
dition that  one  of  the  older  sous  of  Ishai  was  meant,  we  shall 
without  hesitation  apply  it  to  one  and  the  same  well-known  son 
of  Ishai,  viz.  to  David.     Similarlv  after  the  angel  of  Jehovah  luvs 


184  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

in  Gen.  xvi.  appeared  in  so  strildng  and  significant  a  manner, 
we  apply  tliis  expression  always  to  the  owe  known  and  distin- 
guislied  '  angel,'  unless,  of  covirse,  the  text  expressly  bears  that 
another  definite  individual  was  meant,  as  is  actually  the  case  in 
Mai.  ii.  7  and  Hagg.  i.  13,  but  in  no  other  instance." 

"  As  the  name  Maleach  Jehovah  indicates  that  He  was  unique 
and  always  the  same  person,  so  do  His  predicates  and  attributes 
shew  that  His  was  a  peculiar  and  a  di\dne  nature  and  agency. 
All  that  the  Biblical  writers  say  or  record  about  Him  clearly 
proves  that  they  regarded  and  represented  Him  as  Grod  becoming 
manifest  in  a  manner  accessible  and  patent  to  the  senses.  His 
appearance  and  His  claims.  His  words  and  His  actions  are  so 
peculiar,  so  striking  and  distinct,  that  nothing  analogous  to  it 
occm-s  within  the  entire  compass  of  holy  writ.  But  these  pecu- 
liar and  distinctive  characteristics,  which  distinguish  His  first 
appearance,  remain  the  same,  equally  remarkable  in  each  of  His 
frequent  manifestations  and  revelations.  Always  and  without 
exception  He  speaks  and  acts  as  if  He  were  Himself  the  Creator 
and  Director  of  all  things,  and  the  Covenant-God  of  Israel ;  nor 
does  He  anywhere  appeal  to  a  Divine  mission  as  the  warrant  of 
His  appearance  or  activity ;  He  never  rests  His  claims  to 
obedience  on  a  commission  with  which  God  had  entrusted  Him ; 
never  does  He  in  word  or  deed  point  to  a  tlifterence  of  nature 
between  Himself  and  Jehovah ;  He  determines  by  Himself  and 
immediately  the  fate  of  nations  and  of  individuals ;  He  claims 
Divine  power,  honour,  and  glory,  and  allows  sacrifices  and  wor- 
ship to  be  ofiered  to  Him,  as  something  to  which  apparently  He 
has  a  right.  More  or  less  all  to  whom  He  appears  are  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  Jehovah  Himself  had  appeared  to  them,  and 
they  address  and  honour  Him  as  God — yea  Jacob  blesses  his 
grand-children  in  the  name  of  this  angel  (Gen.  xlviii.  16.)  The 
sacred  wiiters  also  always  represent  His  appearances  as  Tlieo- 
phanies,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term  ;  in  their  narratives  they 
use,  without  hesitation,  alternately  the  terms  Maleach  Jehovan 
and  Jehovah,  nor  do  they  ever  give  the  shghtest  hint  that  they 
regarded  Him  as  different  from  Jehovah,  either  in  His  nature 
and  being,  or  in  His  power  and  dignity." 

"  These  facts  are  so  far  admitted  by  our  opponents,  but  they 
think  to  avoid  the  conclusions  which  we  draw  from  them  by 
applying  in  this  case  the  jDrinciple :  Quod  quis  per  alium  fecit, 
ipse  fecit.  They  maintain  that  the  angel  is  called,  or  designates 
Himself,  acts  and  speaks  as  Jehovah  Himself,  because  He  is  the 
mediiun  by  which  the  Lord  reveals  Himself,  and  hence  the  re- 
presentative of  Jehovah.  But  wliile  it  is  true  that  occasionally 
those  who  act  as  the  representatives  of  God  among  His  creatures 
(such  as  princes,  judges,  <fec.,)  bear  in  the  Old  Testament  the 


TUE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LORD.  (§  50.)  185 

name  Elohim,  as  being  invested  with  Divine  authority  (Exod. 
iv.  16,  vii.  1,  &c.),  we  do  not  anywhere  find  that  the  name 
Jehovali  is  apj)Hed  in  the  same  manner,  nor  indeed  could  any- 
thing be  more  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  tlie  Old  Testament  than 
to  transfer  that  title  to  any  creature.     Nor  is  it  in  point  to  appeal 
to  the  circiunstance  that  the  prophets  utter  Divine  decrees  and 
declarations  announcing  them  in  the  first  person  as  if  they  were 
Jehovah,  and  not  prefacing,  as  is  most  commonly  the  case,  by  a 
'  Thus  saith  Jehovah.'      But,  manifestly,  this  does  not  prove 
that  a  created  angel  might  behave  himself,  speak,  and  act  as  the 
Maleach  Jehovah  did.     For  (1)  the  fact  is  left  out  of  view  that 
such  declarations  of  the  prophets,  without  an  appeal  to  a  Divine 
commission,  are  very  rare  exceptions  from  the  rule,  while  in  the 
case  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah  they  are  the  invariable  rule.     Hence 
with  the  prophets  this  unusual  and  exceptional  mode  of  speaking 
must  be  held  to  be  fixed  and  limited  by  that  which  they  com- 
monly and  regularly  employed.     But  in  the  case  of  the  angel  of 
Jehovah  the  constant  recurrence  of  the  peculiarity  to  which  we 
have  adverted  shows  that  it  may  not  be  ascribed  to  a  momentary 
and  oratorical  personification  of  Jehovah,  but  must  be  traced  to 
a  permanent  right  of  natm-e ; — (ii)  Besides,  in  the  case  of  the 
prophets  no  misimderstanding  which  would  result  in  worship  of 
the  creature,  and  by  which  the  person  representing  would  be 
confounded  with  the  person  represented,  was  to  be  apprehended, 
while  in  that  of  an  angel  or  being  from  a  higher  world  there 
was  imminent  danger  of  it.     Hence  an  angel  could  not  have 
acted  as  one  of  the  prophets  woidd  have  done  without  endanger- 
ing the  observance  of  tlie  first  commandment ; — (3)  Such  an 
Enallage  was  natural  and  true  only  when  the  prophets  had 
reached  the  high  point  of  prophetic  inspiration,  when,  absorbed 
by  the  object  in  view,  they  wholly  forgot  themselves,  their  per- 
sonality, and  their  intermediate   position,  while  the   Maleach 
Jehovah  always  speaks  and  acts  in  this  manner,  even  under  com- 
paratively ordinary  circumstances,  so  that  the  calmness  of  His 
manner  and  of  His  speech  indicates  that  He  speaks  and  acts  in 
propr-ia  persona  ; — (4)  Even  where  a  prophet  so  far  looses  sight  of 
liis  individual  position  as  to  speak  of  Divine  decrees  and  leadings 
as  if  he  himself  had  decreed  them,  or  as  if  he  himself  were  the 
Almighty  who  would  execute  them, — he  does  not  in  any  case 
allow  himself  to  be  regarded  as  God,  or  to  be  worshipped  by 
those  whom  he  addresses,  nor  does  he  receive  their  sacrifices. 
Would  Jacob  on  the  ground  of  Gen.  xlix.  7,  or  Ehjah  on  account 
of  the  occurrence  mentioned  in  1   Kings  xvii.  1,  have  allowed 
their  audience  to  adore  or  to  ofler  sacrifices  to  them  ?  would 
they  not  rather  have  acted  like  Paul  in  Acts  xiv.  14,  15  ? — (5) 
Lastly,  the  Bil)lical  writers  represent  the  Maleach  Jehovah  an 


186  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

acting  like  Jehovah,  not  only  when  they  dramatically  and 
graphically  describe  His  appearance,  but  they  also  designate  him 
by  that  title  in  plain  and  purely  liistorical  passages.  But  no 
historian  ever  applied  the  title  of  Jehovah  to  any  prophet  who 
came  and  spake  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

"  If  with  tliis  we  compare  the  appearance  of  what  we  cannot 
doubt  were  created  angels — as  for  example  in  Gen.  xix.  1 — 16 
— ^we  are  sensible  of  a  vast  and  essential  difference  between  them 
and  the  Maleach  Jehovah.  An  ordinary  angel  does  not  of  his 
own  accord  determine  the  fate  of  men ;  he  does  not  lay  pretence 
to  Divine  power  or  dignity  ;  he  does  not  allow  sacrifice  or  worship 
to  liimself ;  Biblical  wi'iters  do  not  ascribe  Divine  titles  to  him. 
Such  angels,  on  the  contrary,  make  a  wide  distinction  between 
their  own  persons  and  that  of  God  (Gen.  xix.  13,  14)  ;  they  ex- 
pressly appeal  to  a  Divine  commission  with  which  they  had  been 
entrusted  (Gen.  xix.  13),  and  very  pointedly  refuse  all  Divine 
homage  or  worsliip  (Kev.  xix.  10.)  Besides,  created  angels  are 
generally  emj^loyed  in  a  totally  different  sphere.  Their  ministry 
is  commonly  called  into  service  in  the  general  administration  of 
the  Divine  government  of  the  world,  while  that  of  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  belongs  to  the  economy  of  salvation.  He  is  the  proper 
and  permanent  medium  of  all  those  revelations  which  bear 
reference  to  the  development  and  furtherance  of  the  Divine 
counsel  of  salvation.  Hence  also  independent  appearances  of 
ordinary  angels  are,  compared  with  that  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah, 
extremely  rare  in  the  Old  Testament — in  the  New  Testament 
this  relationship  is  of  course  changed." 

"  But  replies  Hofmann  (Predict  and  Fulfil.) :  '  What  more 
plain  than  that  ij^^n  'H^^'^  ^'^^^  ^^^  mean  the  King  liimself, 
nor  j-j-^pf^  *!Ti^S?2  Jehovah  Himself,  but  some  one  different  from 
Him  and  hence  not  God  the  Son,  but  a  created  being  ?'  But  it 
is  to  be  remarked  that  the  angel  of  the  Lord  does  not  more 
frequently  indicate  His  identity  with,  than  He  makes  a  distinction 
between  Himself  and  Jehovah  (comp.  the  proofs  in  Hengsten- 
berg)  ;  He  is  different  from  Him  in  reference  to  His  personaHty, 
but  the  same  in  natm-e,  power,  honom-,  and  dignity.  We  do  not 
indeed  maintain  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was  dogmati- 
cally taught  in  the  Old  Testament ;  but  we  hold  that  the  general 
cast  of  Old  Testament  teaching  is  in  the  direction  of  tliis  doctrine, 
and  that  it  came  out  more  and  more  clearly  as  time  proceeded. 
But  we  regard  the  manifestation  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah,  to 
whom  on  the  one  hand  all  the  attributes  of  the  Deity  were 
ascribed,  wliile  on  the  other  He  was  represented  as  sent  by 
Jehovah,  and  hence  as  distinct  from  Him, — whether  men  were 
conscious  what  a  consistent  carrying  out  of  tliis  view  implied  or 
not — as  one,  and  that  a  very  important,  element  in  the  develop- 


TUE  ANGEL  UF  THE  LORD.  (§  50.)  187 

inent  uf  the  doctrine  in  question.  In  the  Okl  Testament  the 
Maleach  Jehovah  is  represented  as  God  manifest  and  revealing 
Himself,  in  a  manner  perceptible  by  the  senses,  and  as  distinct 
from  the  invisible  God,  in  His  supersensual  and  therefore  non- 
perceptible  existence.  This,  however,  does  not  necessarily  imply 
that  men  fully  understood  whether  this  distinction  was  merely 
ideal  or  essential,  merely  momentary  or  permanent,  and  based 
on  the  nature  of  God.  The  Old  Testament  does  not  clearly  in- 
dicate the  character  of  the  relationshi])  between  the  modes  of 
Divine  revelation  and  the  Divine  Being  Himself ;  the  requirement 
to  frame  tliis  relationship  in  clear  and  sharply  defined  notions 
had  not  yet  been  felt.  But  as  the  Divine  activity  unfolded  and 
enlarged  in  the  covenant-history  of  the  Old  Testament,  the 
hypostatic  distinction  in  God — between  the  ultimate  ground  of 
all,  the  Logos  as  God  manifest,  the  Creator  and  the  Kedeemer, 
and  the  Holy  Spirit  as  the  source  of  life  and  light,  and  He  who 
perfecteth  all  things  (Gen.  i,  2) — increasingly  manifested  itself 
ohjectively ,  and  would  in  the  same  measure  also  be  subjectively 
apprehended  and  recognised." 

"  If  it  is  said  that  the  term  Maleach,  applying  as  it  did  to  a 
definite  class  of  spiritual  beings,  could  on  that  account,  in  the 
case  under  consideration  also,  only  refer  to  a  being  of  this  kind, 
we  answer  by  appealing  to  Mai.  ii.  7,  and  Hag.  i.  13.  Our 
opponents  forget,  when  making  this  assertion,  that  Maleach  is 
not  a  nomen  naturce,  but  a  nomen  officii^  of  angels,  and  hence 
that  by  itself  it  conveys  nothing  about  the  nature  of  those  who 
bear  it.  Similarly,  the  name  cittoo-toXo^  is  in  the  New  Testament 
(Heb.  iii.  1)  assigned  to  Christ,  although  it  was  manifestly  not 
meant  to  convey  that  the  term  applied  to  His  nature  as  it  did  to 
that  of  the  other  apostles.  And  yet  the  word  apostle  became 
as  much  a  fixed  designation  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus  who  were 
sent  forth,  as  that  of  Maleach  for  the  ministering  spirits  of 
heaven." 

"'Again,'  continues  Hofmann  (Predict,  and  Fulfil.),  'if  the 
view  of  our  opponents  is  correct,  how  are  we  to  render  the  New 
Testament  expression  dyyeXo^  Kvpiov,  which  is  manifestly  a 
translation  of  Maleach  Jehovah,  especially  in  such  passages  as 
Matt.  i.  20 ;  Luke  ii.  9  ;  Acts  xii.  7  ?'  We  agi'ee  Avith  Hofmann 
that  the  dyye\o<;  Kvpiov  who  there  appeared  was  not  the  Logos 
l)ut  a  created  angel,  although  in  Acts  vii.  30  it  is  said  that  the 
dyyeXo'i  Kvpiov  had  appeared  to  Moses  in  the  burning  bush 
where  the  expression  is  manifestly  a  translation  of  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  in  Exod.  iii.  2.  We  maintain,  however,  that  in  Acts 
vii.  this  ox]n"ession  designates  another  person  than  that  referred 
to  in  the  three  New  Testament  passages  in  which  the  term  occurs, 
find  we  assert  this  on  the  ground  that  the  former  is  in  reality  a 


188  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

quotation  from  the  Old  Testament,  while  the  other  tlu*ee  are 
New  Testament  statements.  For  the  Maleach  Jehovah  called 
such  KaT  e^oxnv  belongs  properly  only  to  the  sphere  of  the  Old 
Testament.  In  the  New  Testament  Christ,  the  incarnate  Son  of 
God  takes  his  place.  The  Maleach  Jehovah  is  the  future — 
Christ  the  present — God-man ;  the  former  is  a  pi'ototype  of  the 
eternal  plan  of  salvation,  the  latter  its  plerosis.  With  the 
incarnation  of  God  in  Christ,  the  Lord  ceases  to  appear  and  to 
act  as  the  Maleach  Jehovah,  inasmuch  as  He  has  entered  into 
permanent  and  real  union  with  the  Man  Jesus.  Hence  if  that 
name  is  again  employed  it  no  longer  designates  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  Kar  i^oxrjv ;  it  has  lost  the  unique  and  prominent 
definiteness  which  it  bore  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  has  again 
become  a  general  term.  The  ayyeXofi  Kvpiov  is  only  in  words, 
but  not  in  meaning,  the  same  as  the  Maleach  Jehovah  of  the 
Old  Testament ;  bearing  no  longer  reference  to  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  of  the  Old  Testament,  he  is  only  a  created  being.  But 
this  remark  does  not  apply  to  Acts  vii.  30,  where  we  are  again 
on  Old  Testament  ground,  and  hence  must  view  the  subject 
from  the  Old  Testament  stand-point.  There  the  01776X09  Kvpiov 
must,  therefore,  mean  the  same  as  the  Maleach  Jehovah  in  the 
Old  Testament  passage,  from  which  the  verse  is  quoted  (Exod. 
iii.  2.)  On  the  objection  of  Steudel,  based  on  Exod.  xxiii.  and 
xxxii.,  comp.  our  exposition  in  Tlwluck's  Anz.  1.  c.  pp.  108 — 
112." 

"  But  Baumgarten  objects  to  our  view,  observing  that :  '  Those 
who  regard  the  Maleach  Jehovah  as  the  Logos  must  surely  have 
forgotten  that  the  angel  of  Jehovah  first  appeared  to  an  Egyptian 
handmaid'  (Gen.  xvi.)  Delitzsch  (1.  c.  p.  289)  has  replied  to 
this  by  a  quotation  from  the  objector  himself  (i.  1  p.  517)  :  '  from 
this  we  gather  that  the  Kevelation  of  Jehovah  was  one  by  which 
the  Gentiles  also  were  to  attain  to  faith  in  Jehovah.'  We  reply : 
the  Maleach  Jehovah  is  the  covenant-God,  who  visibly  appears 
in  the  form  of  a  man  to  perform  the  Divine  covenant-work. 
His  interpositions  are  confined  to  the  house  and  race  of  Abraham, 
to  the  development  of  that  covenant  wliich  He  had  made  with 
Abraham  and  his  seed.  He  can  and  does  only  appear  after  that 
covenant  was  actually  made — and  this  had  only  taken  place  in 
the  chapter  preceding  that  in  which  Hagar's  flight  is  recorded. 
That  He  should  have  first  appeared  to  Hagar  arose  simply  from 
the  circumstance  that  her  flight  was  the  first  event  after  the  con- 
clusion of  the  covenant  which  called  for  an  interference  on  the 
part  of  Jehovah  ; — that  He  appeared  to  her  at  all  has  its  ground 
in  the  fact  that  Hagar  belonged  to  the  household  of  Abraham, 
that  she  stood  in  most  close  relationship  with  Abram,  and  that 
the  seed  of  Abram,  to  which  she  was  about  to  give  birth,  was 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LOKD.  (§  50.)  189 

included  in  those  general  promises  of  blessing  which  had  been 
made  to  the  seed  of  Abram.  Lastly,  we  account  lor  the  fact  that 
He  appeared  as  the  Maleach  Jehovah,  on  the  ground  that,  of  all 
the  modes  of  visible  manifestation  on  the  part  of  the  Deity,  this 
was  the  most  condescending,  the  most  encouraging,  and  the  most 
gracious." 

Thus  we  argued  in  the  Jirst  edition  of  this  book ;  we  have  now 
to  add  the  following  retractation : — 

The  principal  defect  of  om-  former  discussion  lay  in  this,  that 
we  had  confined  ourselves  exclusively  to  the  Pentateuch,  and  had 
not  at  all,  or  only  in  passing,  taken  notice  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  doctrine  about  the  angel  of  Jehovah  was  treated  in  the  later 
writings  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  in  those  of  the  New/Pesta- 
ment.  At  any  rate,  we  had,  not  assigned  their  proper  place,  nor 
given  their  due  weight  to  these  passages.  We  feel  that  if  we 
look  at  the  Maleach  Jehovah  only  as  He  appears  in  the  Penta- 
teuch, and  in  the  historical  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  pre- 
ponderance of  evidence  will  be  in  flivour  of  the  view  of  Hengsten- 
berg,  more  especially  if,  as  all  the  advocates  of  this  view  are  in 
the  habit  of  doing,  we  weigh  the  arguments  according  to  our 
occidental,  and  not  according  to  the  oriental  standard.  But  even 
in  these  books  there  are  data  which  must  be  strained,  and  then 
also  only  with  difficulty  tally  with  this  view.  But  the  case  is 
entirely  changed  when  we  examine  the  writings  of  the  later  pro- 
phets, especially  of  Daniel  and  Zechariah.  Here  the  interpreter 
will,  if  impartial,  and  not  prepossessed  in  favour  of  a  theory 
which  he  has  drawn  only  from  the  Pentateuch,  soon  learn  that 
these  prophets  had  not  regarded  the  angel  of  the  Lord  as  of  the 
same  nature  with  Jehovah.  If  from  the  prophets  we  pass  to  the 
New  Testament,  it  requires  certainly  a  large  measure  of  self- 
deception,  or  of  want  of  consideration,  to  maintain  that  the  djye- 
\o?  Kvplov,  there  so  frequently  spoken  of,  was  the  Logos,  or  God 
manifest,  in  conti'achstinction  to  the  hidden  God — a  mistake  tliis, 
with  which,  however,  neither  Hengstenherg  nor  the  author  of 
this  treatise  are  chargeable — although  it  may,  at  least  in  part,  be 
imputed  to  J.  P.  Lange,  as  will  appear  from  the  following  ex- 
tract (Posit.  Dogmat.,  p.  588)  : — ''Kurtz  should  not  have  made 
an  arbitrary  distinction  between  the  term  '  Angel  of  the  Lord,'  as 
occurring  in  the  New  Testament  (Matt.  i.  20,  and  Luke  ii.  9),  and 
in  the  Old.  For  the  angel  of  the  Annunciation  must  certainly 
be  regarded  as  the  angel  (?)  of  the  future  (?)  God-Man.  Again, 
the  angel  of  the  Lord  interferes  for  the  deliverance  of  Peter 
(Acts  xii.  7) ,  because  the  apostle  is  only  awakening  to  conscious- 
ness, and  obtains,  as  it  were,  only  a  night-glimpse  (?)  of  the  pre- 
sence of  Christ,  his  real  Deliverer." 

To  return.     If  therefore  we  were,  on  the  ground  of  our  sup- 


190  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

posed  inferences  from  the  Pentateuch,  to  believe  that  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  of  patriarchal  and  pre-proplietic  liistory  was  the  Logos, 
or  Grod  manifest, — in  other  words,  in  His  own  natm-e,  Jehovah 
himself, — it  would  imply  two  different  modes  of  Scripture  teach- 
ing and  interpretation,  and  that  not  only  in  the  sense  that  one 
and  the  same  subject  had  been  apprehended  and  developed  under 
two  different  aspects,  but  that  it  had  been  presented  in  a  manner 
twofold  and  wholly  irreconcileable.  It  follows  that  we  must  either 
suppose  that  Scripture  contains  contradictory  and  irreconcileable 
dogmas,  or  else  that  the  view  concerning  the  Maleach  Jehovah, 
which  we  had  gathered  from  the  Pentateuch,  rested  on  a  mistake 
and  misunderstanding.  We  suppose  that  we  had  misimderstood 
the  passages  in  the  Pentateuch  bearing  on  this  point,  and  not 
that  we  mistake  those  in  the  prophets  or  in  the  New  Testament, 
because  the  latter  are  not  only  plain  and  unequivocal,  but  also 
because  we  expect  there  to  find  a  clear,  deep,  and  comprehensive 
view  of  the  nature  and  being  of  all  that  enters  into  the  history  of 
salvation.  Hence  in  any  case  of  doubt,  we  deem  it  proper  to 
explain  the  earlier  by  the  later  representation  of  an  event  or  a 
person. 

It  were  in  truth  a  discovery  totally  reversing  all  om-  weU- 
grounded  ideas  about  the  continuous  development  and  j)rogress 
in  the  knowledge  of  salvation,  as  presented  in  the  Scriptures,  if 
we  were  to  conclude  that  at  the  commencement  of  Old  Testa- 
ment history  so  clear  a  consciousness  of  the  difference  between 
the  hidden  Grod  and  Grod  manifest  had  obtained,  and  that  tliis 
consciousness  had  gradually  become  obscm-ed  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, until  at  last,  under  the  New  Dispensation  (when  the  re- 
velation and  knowledge  of  the  history  of  salvation  had  reached 
their  climax)  it  had  entii'ely  disappeared ;  and  that  indeed  the 
New  Testament  writers  had  not  even  the  most  distant  conception 
of  the  important  position  and  meaning  of  the  dyyeXo<i  Kvpiov 
under  the  Old  Testament. 

Even  if  the  LXX.  had  not  formed  a  connecting  link  between 
the  Hebrew  of  the  Old  and  the  Grreek  of  the  New  Testament, 
beyond  doubt,  philologically  speaking,  the  expression  "AyyeXo^ 
Kvpiov,  whether  with  or  without  the  article,  is  exactly  equivalent 
^0  miT^  'Tyt^^?^  (ju^t  as  dyye\o<;  tov  deov  is  equivalent  to  "^yt^^j^ 
D'^nT't«5rT-)  5ut  if  Matthew  or  Luke  had  even  had  the  slightest 
conception  that  the  expression  dyyeXo^  Kvpiov  indicated  in  the 
Old  Testament  the  Son  of  God,  who  in  Christ  became  incarnate, 
they  would  not  have  apphed  the  term  so  frequently  and  unhesi- 
tatingly— nay,  they  would  not  have  applied  it  at  all  to  a  created 
angel  (comp.  Matt.  i.  20 ;  xxviii.  2 ;  Luke  i.  11  ;  ii.  9  ;  Acts  v. 
19  ;  viii.  26  ;  xii.  7 ;  xii.  33 ;  xxvii.  23  ;  x.  3.)  Hengstenherg 
takes  no  notice  of  this  difficulty  ;  and  we  have  to  disown  the 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LORD.  (§  50.)  191 

solution  which  we  had  formerly  attempted,  and  which,  indeed, 
had  never  appeared  to  us  wholly  satisfactory.  Nor  can  we  now 
(as  we  had  formerly  endeavoured  to  do)  plead  that  at  least  Acts 
vii.  30  was  in  accordance  with  the  supposed  Old  Testament  usus 
loquendi.  For,  irrespective  of  the  circumstance  that  the  reading 
d'yyeXo<i  (instead  of  dyye\o<;  Kuplov),  as  proposed  by  LacJimann 
and  Tischendorf,  appears  to  be  correct,  the  point  in  question  is 
not  what  idea  the  author  of  Exod.  iii.  2  had  attached  to  the  'nt*^^';^ 
Xy^-^V^  ^^^  what  both  Stephen  and  Luke  had  meant  by  the  ex- 
pression dyyeXo'^  Kvpiov.  But  this  question  can  only  be  decided 
according  to  their  usus  loquendi,  from  which  we  conclude  that 
if  in  nine  out  of  the  ten  passages  in  which  he  employs  the  term, 
Luke  had,  beyond  doubt  or  controversy,  meant  a  created  angel, 
the  inference  is  plain  that  he  meant  the  same  thing  in  the  tenth 
passage.  J.  P.  Lange  would  indeed  apply  even  Matt.  i.  20  and 
Lulce  ii.  9  to  the  Logos.  In  reply,  we  ask  whether  the  incarna- 
tion of  God  had  commenced  when  Jesus  was  conceived,  or  only 
when  He  was  born  ?  And  if,  in  order  to  maintain  the  above 
hyjiothesis,  the  latter  oj^inion  were  adopted,  we  would  farther 
ask  whether  it  can  be  maintained  that  the  dyyeXo^  Kvpiov  who  in 
Lulce  ii.  9  announces  to  the  shepherds  that  the  birth  of  Jesus 
had  taken  place  was  the  God-man  who  luas  to  appear  ?  We 
will  not  comment  on  Lange  s  curious  explanation  of  Acts  xii.  7 
(to  which  we  have  above  referred),  and  only  ask  with  Delitzsch 
(Gen.  p.  255) — "Why  should  the  dyy€\o<i  /cvplov  who  announces 
the  birth  of  John  the  Baptist  be  different  in  nature  from  him 
who  announces  that  of  Samson  ?  Why  should  the  dyye\.o<i 
Kvpiov  who  smites  Herod  Agrippa,  so  that  he  dies,  be  different 
in  nature  from  him  who,  in  one  night,  destroyed  the  host  of 
Sennacherib  ?  Wliy  should  the  dyyeXo^;  Kvp'iov  who  encourages 
Paul  in  his  bonds  be  different  in  nature  from  him  who  comforts 
Hagar  when  she  is  driven  forth  ?" 

But  we  go  farther,  and  maintain  that  express  data  are  not 
wanting  to  show  that  the  New  Testament  wi-iters  understood  the 
Maleach  Jehovah  of  the  Old  Testament  to  mean  a  cr^eated  angel. 
Frequently  and  clearly  do  we  find  it  in  the  New  Testament  that 
the  law  was  received  "  by  the  disposition  of  angels,"  that  it  "  was 
spoken  by  angels"  (Acts  vii.  53 ;  Gal.  iii.  19  ;  Heb.  ii.  2)  ;  nor 
can  it  possibly  be  doubted  that  created  angels  are  meant  in  these 
passages.  Even  the  Old  Testament  affords  a  basis  for  tliis  view 
in  Dent,  xxxiii.  2,  comp.  with  Ps.  lx\dii.  18.  It  is  indeed  true 
that  Jehovah  Himself  descended  in  fire  upon  Mount  Sinai  (Ex. 
xix.  18)  ;  that  God  spake  all  these  words  (xx.  1)  ;  and  that  the 
voice  of  God  then  shook  the  earth  (Heb.  xii.  26.)  But  it  is 
equally  true  that  the  ten  thousands  of  saints  with  whom  He  came 
(Deut.  xxxiii.  2)  were  not  merely  His  attendants,  but  also  acted 


192  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

as  ministering  spirits,  by  whose  mediation  the  law  was  ordained 
(Gral.  iii.  19),  and  the  word  of  Grod  was  spoken  (Heb.  ii.  2.) 
'  We  gather,  therefore,  that  the  Lord  did  not  Himself  and  im- 
mediately utter  the  words  of  the  law,  but  had,  so  to  speak,  em- 
ployed angels  as  His  mouth-piece.  When  Stephen  only  refers 
to  one  angel  (Acts  vii.  38)  who  had  spoken  on  Sinai,  he  of  course 
means  the  angel  of  the  Lord ;  but  the  mere  fact  that  he  calls 
him  simply  dyyeXo'i,  without  adding  any  more  specific  determi- 
nation, shows  that  he  had  an  ordinary,  and  hence  a  created  angel 
in  view.  Still  more  clear  is  tlie  evidence  derived  from  Heb.  ii. 
2,  according  to  which  the  pre-eminence  of  the  gospel  as  compared 
with  the  law,  consisted  in  this,  that  the  latter  had  been  annoimced 
only  "  Bl  dyyeXoiv,"  but  the  former  "  8ia  rov  Kvpiov."  Hence  the 
dyy6\o<;  who  had,  according  to  Stephen,  spoken  with  Moses, 
could  only  have  been  the  mouth-piece  of,  and  not  the  Kvpio<i 
himself. 

It  amounts  also  almost  to  a  proof  in  the  same  direction,  when 
in  Heb.  xiii.  2  we  are  told,  in  recommendation  of  hospitahty,  that 
some  had  entertained  angels  unawares.  It  is  generally  acknow- 
ledged that  the  allusion  refers  to  the  visit  of  the  three  men  to 
Abraham  in  "  the  plains  of  Mamre"  (Gen.  xviii.)  If,  then,  it 
had  been  understood  that  Jehovah  had  been  one  of  these  three, 
the  writer  would  certainly  have  specially  pointed  out  the  fact  that 
hospitality  had  been  so  much  owned,  that  on  that  occasion  the 
Lord  allowed  Himself  to  be  entertained. 

Leaving  the  New  Testament,  let  us  farther  consider  what  the 
prophets  of  the  Old  Testament  say  concerning  the  angelic  medium 
of  Divine  revelations.  Turning  first  to  Daniel,  we  find  that  the 
prince  of  angels,  who,  in  ch.  x.  13,  21,  and  xii.  1,  bears  the  name 
of  Michael,  and  is  distinguished  as  ^^i^in  "WH'  ^^^  ^^  one  of 
□"'iUJN'^n  D'^ltort)  occupies  exactly  the  same  position  which,  in 
the  historical  books  (comp.  especially  Josh.  v.  13),  is  assigned 
to  the  Maleach  Jehovah.  Tliis  is  clearly  shown  by  Hengsten- 
herg  (Contrib.  i.,  p.  165;  Revel,  i.,  pp.  <6&,  612,  &c.),  and  ad- 
mitted by  Hofmann.  But  Hengstenherg  maintains  that  Michael 
also  was  God  manifest,  the  Logos  of  the  New  Testament ;  while 
Hofmann  holds  that  he  was  only  a  creature,  although  a  prince 
of  angels.  The  mere  fact,  however,  that  he  is  not  the  sole  -^^^ 
^1-t;1,  and  only  one  among  many  equal  Qi^U^^^i  Q"i"l1i>)  proves 
that  Michael  was  not  the  Logos.  In  Dan.  viii.  16,  ix.  21,  Ave 
read  of  another  prince  of  angels  (archangel),  under  the  name  of 
Gabriel.  Job  xii.  15  adds  Raphael,  and  4  Ezra  iv.  1,  Uriel, 
so  that  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  seven  angels  of  the  book  of 
Revelation  (viii.  2),  who  stand  continually  before  God,  may  be 
the  same  as  the  angel-princes  in  the  book  of  Daniel.     J.  P. 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LORD.  (§  50.)  193 

Lange  attempts  to  get  rid  of  this  difficulty  in  his  own  way,  hy 
resolving  these  exalted  beings  into  mere  ideas,  although  they 
manifestly  appear  as  independent  and  distinct  personalities. 
According  to  this  view  (Dogm.,  p.  589),  "they  are  all  manifes- 
tations of  one  and  the  same  Jehovah-angel,  only  individualised 
in  accordance  with  the  different  operations  of  the  coming  vSaviour. 
Gabriel  was  a  vision  of  the  coming  Redeemer  of  the  world, 
Michael  of  its  coming  Judge,  Raphael  of  Christ  as  tlie  physician 
of  men,  Uriel  of  the  Logos  as  shedding  light  over  the  world." 
But  however  ingenious  spiritualistic  interpretations  like  these 
may  appear,  they  cannot  lead  us  away  from  the  plain  truth.  As 
we  believe  in  only  one  Logos  (as  being  one  distinct  personality), 
so  also  would  we,  if  Michael  were  as  prince  of  angels  the  Logos, 
only  look  for  one  prince  of  angels,  while  Daniel  refers  to  several. 

That  Michael  occupied,  in  point  of  natui^e  and  hehig,  the  same 
place  as  the  other  princes  of  angels,  appears  still  more  clearly 
from  a  comparison  of  ch.  x.  13,  21,  with  ch.  xi.  1.  Michael  is 
the  prince  of  Israel  (x.  21),  who  standeth  for  the  people  of 
Israel  (xii.  1.)  Another  prince  of  angels,  whose  name  is  not 
mentioned,  presides  over  the  empires  of  the  world.  The  latter 
informs  Daniel  (x.  13,  21)  that  none  had  held  with  him  in  the 
contest  with  the  prince  of  the  kingdom  of  Persia  (probably  an 
evil  spirit) ,  except  Michael.  But  he  also  adds,  that  he  had  stood 
to  confirm  and  to  strengthen  Michael  (xi.  1.)  A  statement  like 
this  can  scarcely  be  reconciled  with  the  notion  that  Michael  was 
the  Logos,  or  God  manifest. 

Thus  far  briefly  ;  for  a  more  full  argumentation  of  the  point, 
and  the  proofs  that  the  Michael  of  the  book  of  Daniel  referred 
no  more  to  the  Logos  than  do  passages  such  as  Jude  v.  6,  and 
Rev.  xii.  7  (despite  the  reasoning  of  Hengstenhei-g,  Contrib.  i.,  pp 
166  and  following,  and  Comment,  on  Revel,  i.,  pp.  611,  &c.),  we 
refer  the  reader  to  a  later  portion  of  our  investigations. 

The  prophecies  of  Zechariah  also  make  mention  of  the  angel 
of  the  Lord.  But  even  ch.  i.  12  clearly  shows  that  the  prophet 
had  regarded  him  as  not  only  personally  distinct  from,  but  also 
as  subordinate  to,  Jehovah — in  fact,  as  a  created  being.  The 
statement  in  Is.  Ixiii.  9  is  based  on  Ex.  xxiii.  32,  33,  and  must 
be  explained  in  accordance  with  it,  as  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah 
do  not  contain  any  passage  which  might  appear  decisive  either 
as  to  one  or  the  other  mode  of  viewing  the  question.  Mai.  iii.  1 , 
where  Messiah  is  expressly  called  p^-^^n  "TTt^S^)  gives  most 
countenance  to  the  interpretation  of  Hengstenherg.  But  it  is  no 
more  than  a  gratuitous  assertion  that  the  "  angel  of  the  cove- 
nant" and  the  "  angel  of  the  Lord"  are  the  same.  If  Malachi 
had,  by  the  term  "  Maleach  of  the  covenant,"  meant  the  Malcach 
Jehovah^  he  would  have  designated  him  by  that  title.     The  truth 

VOL.  I.  N 


194  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

is,  that  this  prophet,  who  (generally  speaking)  uses  the  term 
Maleach  in  its  primary  and  proper  meaning  (:=  messenger,  see 
chs.  ii.  7,  iii.  1),  designates  Messiah  as  the  messenger  and  media- 
tor of  a  new  covenant,  in  contradistinction  to  the  servant  of  the 
Lord  (iii.  22),  who  was  the  mediator  of  the  old  covenant.  Be- 
sides, if  Maleach  Jehovah  meant  the  Logos,  the  emphasis  of  the 
expression  would  lie  oil  the  word  Jehovah  (not  on  Maleach), 
winch  gives  it  the  peculiar  and  distinctive  character  attaching  to 
it.  But  this  very  word  is  wanting  in  the  expression  used  by  the 
prophet,  and  instead  of  it  another  word  is  employed,  which  places 
the  Maleach  in  the  same  category  with  Moses,  who — it  needs  no 
proof — was  also  a  messenger  (or  mediator)  of  tlie  covenant. 

We  need  not  here  discuss  the  appearances  of  the  angel  of 
Jehovah,  recorded  in  the  historical  hooks,  as  they  are  quite  ana- 
logous wdth  that  chi-onicled  in  Genesis,  to  wliich  we  shall  by  and 
bye  refer.  But  Ex.  xxiii.  32,  33,  has  something  pecuhar  about 
it,  w^hich  renders  special  remarks  necessary.  According  to  Ex. 
xxiii.  20,  an  angel  accompanies  the  people  on  its  pilgrimage  from 
Eg}'pt.     Him  Jehovah  designates  (v.  23)  as  t^^^?^,  and  of  Hun 

He  says  (v.  21),  ^^  My  name  is  in  Him"  ('i^'^p^  "'Dtlj)-  Even 
the  designation  t^^^^  shows  beyond  doubt  that  this  angel  is  the 

same  who,  in  patriarchal  history,  so  frequently  meets  us  as  the 
Maleach  Jehovah.  This  view  is  confirmed  by  Ex.  xiv.  19,  where 
he  is  expressly  called  tD"^n^i^n  "H^^^'  '^^  ^^  patriarchal  his- 
tory, so  in  Ex.  xiii.  21,  &c.,  his  activity  is  designated  as  that  of 
Jehovah.  From  this  Hengstenherg  infers  that  in  both  places 
the  Logos  is  meant.  But  he  supposes  that  Ex.  xxxii.  33  refers 
to  a  different  personage.  According  to  liim,  God  thi-eatens  the 
people,  after  their  sin  of  worshipping  the  golden  calf,  that  instead 
of  the  Logos,  or  uncreated,  a  subordinate  and  created  angel  was 
to  be  their  guide  (xxxii.  34),  which  punisluiient  was  afterwards 
withdra^vn,  in  answer  to  Moses'  prayer  (xxxiii.  15.)  But  mani- 
festly the  passage  does  not  refer  to  two  angels.  It  is  the  same 
angel  who,  both  before  and  after  the  intercession  of  Moses,  is 
appointed  to  accompany  the  people.  Tliis  appears,  not  only 
from  the  cu-ciunstance  that,  according  to  ch.  xxxii.  2,  the  sup- 
posed inferior  angel  has  exactly  the  same  task  assigned  to  Inni 
as  that  of  the  supposed  liigher  angel  in  ch.  xxiii.  13,  but  also 
from  this,  that  in  ch.  xxxii.  34,  Jehovah  designates  tliis  supposed 
inferior  angel  as  'i;^^^^?;^'  j^^^^  ^'^  ^^  ^^  *^^®  supposed  superior 
angel  in  ch.  xxiii.  23.  Besides,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
term  i^^^^t^,  as  used  by  Jehovah,  is  equivalent  to  the  "rjj^^^^ 
7T)pl^  of  the  narrator.  Hengstenherg  endeavours  to  evade  the 
force  of  this  argument,  by  assuming  (contrary  to  the  exj^ress 
statement  of  ch.  xxxii.  33)  that  v.  34  contains,  not  the  language 


THE  ANtiEL  OF  THE  LUllD.    (^  50.)  195 

of  Jehovah,  but  of  the  ]\Ialeach  Jehovah,  and  that  the  term 
Maleachi  referred  to  the  ]\Ialeach  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah.  But 
this  view  is  wholly  arbitrary  and  unfounded,  and  necessitates  an 
interpretation  which  Hofinann  rightly  designates  as  impossible 
(comp.  Scri})t.  Demonstr.,  i.  pp.  156,  &c.)  The  difficulty  of  the 
view,  according  to  wliicli,  before  the  intercession  of  Moses, 
Jehovah  is  imAviUing  to  go  up  Himself  (xxxiii.  3),  and  hence  is 
about  to  retract  the  ■i3,"^p;n  ^?:2\LN  pi'edicated  of  the  angels  in  ch. 

xxiii.  21,  lest  He  should  be  obliged,  by  the  way,  to  destroy  the 
stiif-necked  people,  while,  in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  Moses,  He 
again  condescends  to  allow  "  His  presence"  to  go  with  them 
(xxxiii.  14),  in  consequence  of  which  the  angel  who  accompanies 
them  becomes  again  the  "ji^^  TTt^^?2  ^^-  l^iii-  9) — ^^^^  been  satis- 
factorily  cleared  up  by  Baumgarten  (Theol.  Comment.,  i.  2,  p. 
109.) 

We  return  now  to  the  consideration  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah 
of  patriarchal  history.  Above  we  have  admitted  that  thence, 
and  from  the  later  historical  books,  the  view  advocated  by 
Hengsteiiherg  derived  its  chief  support.  Passages  occur  wliich, 
regarded  irrespective  of  the  general  bearing  of  Scriptiu-al  teach- 
ing, and  of  the  oriental  modes  of  viewing,  tliinking,  and  spealdng, 
appear  to  admit  of  only  that  peculiar  explanation.  But  if  we 
enter  more  particularly  upon  this  subject,  we  wiU  even  there 
discover  points  which  are  scarcely,  if  at  all,  compatible  with  the 
above  ^'iew. 

Among  these  we  reckon:  (1.)  The  peculiar  statements  con- 
cerning the  three  angels  who  visited  Abraham  in  the  plain  of 
Maim'e  (Gen.  xviii.  19.)  It  vvdU  be  noticed  that  not  only  the 
angel  who  remains  beliind  with  Abraham  represents  Jehovah, 
but  that  the  other  two  angels  also  (xix.  1)  who  went  to  Sodom 
are  addressed  by  Lot,  so  soon  as  he  recognises  them  to  be 
heavenly  visitors,  by  the  title  i';3-|^  (which  peculiarly  applies  to 

God) ,  and  that  this  designation  is  not  only  given  to  one  of  them 
but  to  both  (xix.  18),  in  phraseology  similar  to  that  of  Abraham 
(xviii.  3)  and  of  the  A\Titer  of  the  whole  narrative  (xviii.  1.) 
It  would,  then,  appear  that  Lot  had  considered  the  appearance 
of  the  two  angels  as  being  a  representative  manifestation  of 
God.  Besides,  the  angels  themselves,  who  in  ver.  13  had  ex- 
pressly stated  "  Jehovah  has  sent  us,"  personate  the  Lord  in 
V.  21.  In  that  passage  the  ^\Titer  of  the  narrative  introduces 
the  two  angels  as  one,  and  as  Jehovah  who  manifested  Himself 
in  them  (v^^  17,  21),  just  as  Lot  had  addressed  the  two  as  if  he 
spake  only  to  one.  We  had  formerly  thought  that  the  angel 
{the  Maleach  Jehovah)  wlio  had  remained  behind  with  Abraham, 
had,  dm'ing  the  interval,  again  joined  the  other  two  angels. 

x2 


196  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

But  this  view,  although  not  open  to  the  sarcastic  objections  of 
Hofmann,  has  no  warrant  in  the  text,  and  is  hence  arbitrary. — 
(2.)  Several  objections  may  be  raised  against  the  assertion  that 
the  angel  of  the  Lord  is  a  personality  distinct  from,  but  in  being 
and  nature  identical  with,  Jehovah.  In  fact,  both  assertions 
are  true.  Sometimes  he  appears,  both  in  personality  and  nature, 
as  distinct  from,  at  others  as  in  both  respects  identical  with, 
Jehovah.  To  say  that  whenever  the  Maleach  Jehovah  speaks  of 
Jehovah  as  "  /"  he  identifies  himself  wdth  Jehovah,  as  to  His 
nature  but  not  as  to  His  personality,  is  purely  arbitrary.  The 
same  stricture  applies  to  the  assertion  that  whenever  he  speaks 
of  Jehovah  in  the  third  person,  he  intends  to  indicate  only  a 
difference  of  personahty,  and  not  of  nature  also. — (3.)  This 
change  in  the  language,  in  the  use  of  the  pronouns  "/"  and  "  He" 
employed  alternately  by  the  Maleach  Jehovah,  proves  that  they 
are  not  identical  in  nature,  on  which  supposition  we  should 
always  have  had  the  pronoun  "7."  But  the  promiscuous  use  of 
"I"  and  "He"  quite  agrees  with  our  supposition  that  the 
Maleach  Jehovah  appeared  identical  with  the  Lord  only  when 
sustaining  the  character  of  His  Representative. — (4.)  If  the 
writer  of  the  narrative  had  known  that  so  important  a  difference 
of  nature  obtained  between  the  Maleach  Jehovah  and  the  other 
angels,  he  would  certainly  have  only  spoken  of  him  either  as 
Maleach  Jehovah  or  else  as  Jehovah  and  not  simply  as  an 
angel.  But  the  latter  is  done  not  merely  by  Stephen  in  the 
New  Testament  (Acts  vii.  38,  and,  according  to  the  correct 
reading,  also  in  v.  30),  but  even  by  Moses  (Numb.  xx.  16), 
and  that  in  a  passage  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  gather  from 
the  context  that  this  angel  differed  from  others,  and  where 
yet  it  appears  important  for  the  argument  to  ascribe  the  guidance 
of  Israel  not  to  an  ordinary  angel  merely. — (5.)  Nor  is  it  with- 
out significance  in  deciding  this  question  that  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  appears  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  Hagar.  If 
he  w^ere  the  Logos,  the  Grod-man  who  was  about  to  become 
manifest,  and  if  liis  peculiar  appearance  were  a  personal  and 
real  manifestation  of  the  Lord  Himself,  resulting  from  the  cove- 
nant of  God  with  Abraham,  we  shoidd  have  anticipated  that  He 
would  not  for  the  first  time  have  appeared  to  an  Egyptian  hand- 
maid, who,  along  with  her  seed,  was  to  be  excluded  from  the 
history  of  salvation,  but  rather  as  taking  part  in  an  event  which 
directly  and  immediately  subserved  to  the  purposes  of  the 
covenant.  Farther,  as  the  events  tending  towards  the  incarnation 
of  God  commenced  not  Avith  the  calling  of  Abraliam  but  imme- 
diately after  the  fall,  may  we  not  ask  with  Hofmann,  why,  from 
the  commencement  of  the  history  of  salvation,  and  not  from  the 
time  of  Abraham  merely,  the  manifestations  of  God,  in  so  far  as 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LUKD.  (§  50.)  197 

they  bore  on  the  preparing  for  the  coming  of  Christ,  were  not 
related  as  appearances  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah  ? — (6.)  Lastly,  it 
is  not  and  cannot  be  explained  how  the  designation  Maleach 
Jehovah  should  have  been  chosen  to  denote  a  personal  and  real 
appearance  of  Grod  manifest.  Hofmann  is  perfectly  right  in 
sa}dng  that  by  every  rule  of  language  the  "jT^an  "^^^St^  means 

not  the  king  himself,  nor  the  n^H''  TTb^^T^  Jehovah  Himself,  but 
in  each  case  a  distinct  and  subordinate  messenger  of  the  king  or 
of  Jehovah;  just  as  in  Revel,  i.  1  and  xxii.  IG  the  "angel  of 
Jesus"'  indicates  not  the  Lord  Himself  but  an  angel  sent  by  Him, 
and  that  although  that  angel  speaks  as  if  he  were  Jesus  (comp. 
xxii.  6,  12 :  "  Behold  I  come  quickly  and  my  reward  is  with  me, 
to  give  every  man  according  as  his  work  shall  be.") 

We  have  yet  to  consider  the  grounds  which,  according  to  some 
writers,  render  it  absolutely  necessary  to  believe  that  the  Maleach 
Jehovah  Avas  Himself  a  DiAdne  person.  These  grounds  may  be 
summed  up  as  follows:  (1)  The  Maleach  Jehovah  expressly 
identifies  Himself  with  Jehovah  ;  (2)  those  to  whom  He  appears 
own,  designate,  and  worship  Him  as  true  God  ;  (3)  He  accepts 
of  sacrifices  and  prayers  without  protesting  against  such  acts  of 
worsliip ;  (4)  Biblical  writers  frequently  designate  Him  as 
Jehovah. 

It  has  already  been  pointed  out  that  all  these  facts  are  accoimted 
for  by  the  lively  consciousness  that  Jehovah  personally  appears 
and  speaks  in  this  angel,  and  that  the  difficulties  and  the 
strangeness  connected  with  the  representative  character  of  the 
Maleach  owe  their  origin  in  our  minds  to  our  modern  and  occi- 
dental mode  of  viewing  which  deals  chiefly  in  the  abstract  and 
renders  it  next  to  impossible  to  transport  one's-self  into  the  modes 
of  viewing,  thinking,  and  speaking  of  the  ancients,  and  especially 
of  orientals  who  dealt  chiefly  in  the  concrete.  But  to  enter  more 
fully  into  each  of  the  al)ove  four  points.  Ad.  1 :  We  cannot 
deny  that  the  prophets  also  frecpiently  identify  themselves  with 
Jehovah.  But — it  is  objected — in  their  case  such  is  the  exception, 
while  in  that  of  the  Maleach  Jehovah  it  is  the  rule  ;  in  their  case 
it  only  takes  place  in  moments  of  highest  prophetic  afflatus,  in 
that  of  tlie  angel  always  in  ordinary  circumstances.  To  this  we 
reply :  Sucli  afflatus  can  only  he  ex])ected  to  take  place  in  human 
beings,  not  in  an  angel,  and  in  Bevel,  xxii.  6,  12  he  whom  all 
own  to  have  been  merely  an  angel  says,  and  that  Avithout  being 
under  any  such  influence :  'JSoi),  epxofj-at  raxv  &c.  Besides,  an 
angel  always  rejoices  in  fulness  of  communion  with  God,  wliile 
the  prophet  only  enjoys  a  temporary  elevation  beyond  the  bounds 
of  self  and  of  his  nature.  Nor  is  it  quite  proved  that  such  a 
personification  of  another  only  takes  place  (either  with  proplicts 
or  men  generally)  in  monicnts  of  fullest  afflatus.     DeJitzsrh  has 


11)8  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

cited  some  striking  instances  of  such  personifications,  occurring 
in  profane  writers.  Thus  in  the  IHad  18,  170  Iris,  the  mes- 
senger of  Juno,  speaks  as  if  she  were  Juno  herself:  in  the  Iliad 
4,  204,  Talthybios  speaks  as  if  himself  had  sent.  Other  instances 
in  point,  from  prose  and  historical  wiitings — especially  of  eastern 
authors — might  no  doubt  be  found.  Ad.  2:  On  this  point 
secular  historians  afford  numerous  analogies.  Comp.  DeUtzsch 
p.  253 :  "  In  Herodot.  1,  212  (ed.  Gron.)  Tomyris  rephes  to  the 
messenger  of  Cp'us  as  if  he  were  Cyrus ;  similarly,  in  Herodot. 
3,  14  Psammenit  speaks  to  the  messenger  of  Cambyses  as  if  he 
were  Cambyses;  in  Xenoph.  Cyi'op.  3,  3,  5iS  (ed.  Zeime),  Cyrus 
addresses  the  ambassador  of  Cyaxares  as  if  he  spake  to  the  latter 
personally.  For  other  instances  comp.  Cyrop.  5,  4,  25  ;  Anab. 
1,  4,  16."  Ad.  3  :  We  allow  that  it  were  high  treason  if  one  in 
the  employment  of  a  king  claimed,  or  even  accepted  unsought, 
such  rights  and  honours  as  only  belong  to  the  king  liimself.  But 
it  is  not  liigli  treason  if,  in  the  name  and  by  authority  of  the 
Idng,  and  as  the  representative  of  his  person,  he  accepts  for 
example  the  loyal  aclmowledgment  of  the  subjects.  Such  in 
reality  is  not  made  to  him,  but  to  the  king  whose  person  he 
represents.     Similarly  also  may  an  angel  *i;;i"^p;^  T\^1V  QtlJ  "^^pt^ 

(Ex.  xxiii.  21)  accept  the  sacrifices  and  the  worship  of  those  to 
whom  he  is  sent  as  the  personal  representative  of  Grod,  without 
being  guilty  of  liigh  treason  against  the  Divine  Majesty.  Ad.  4 : 
If  the  wi'iter  felt  convinced  that  in  this  His  messenger  Jehovah 
Himself  had  appeared,  spoken,  and  acted,  he  might  readily  have 
given  prominence  to  and  made  mention  of  the  contents  rather 
than  the  form  of  this  manifestation,  following  in  this  the  concrete 
modes  of  expresssion  current  in  his  time  and  among  his  people. 
The  above  investigations  lead  to  the  same  result  as  that  which 
DeUtzsch  has  presented  in  the  following  sentences  (Gen.  p.  256)  : 
"  Jehovah  presents  Himself  in  the  Maleach,  but  by  the  medium 
of  a  finite  spirit,  and  hence  in  a  manner  wliich  one  who  occupies 
a  lower  stage  of  communion  with  God  could  more  readily  bear. 
But  let  it  also  be  borne  in  mind  that  God  manifests  Himself  as 
a  person  in  tliis  personal,  living,  and  finite  spirit.  Jehovah  is 
not  without,  but  in  the  angel — i^npH  ^?2U?>  ^'•^-  ^^^  i^  ^^^^  medium 
of  God's  revelation  of  Himself,  for  the  name  of  Jehovah  is  the 
Lord  bearing  witness  of  Himself  and  thereby  making  Himself 
known.  The  relation  between  Jehovah  and  the  Maleach  Jehovah 
is,  so  to  say,  intermediate  between  taking  the  form  of,  and  merely 
deputing  an  angel — it  is  less  then  the  former  and  more  then  the 
latter  ;  less  then  a  '  unio  personaHs,'  more  then  using  a  merely 
dynamic  mediiun.  It  bears  analogy  to  the  presence  of  God  in 
the  prophets,  but  is  only  a  ty^^e  of,  and  preparation  for,  the  pre- 
sence of  God  in  His  incarnate  Son.     As  the  prophet  so  the 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LORD.    (§  50.)  199 

Maleach  also  has  given  up  his  whole  being  for  the  service  of  the 
God  of  Kevelation,  that  the  latter  may  speak  and  act  through 
him.  But  the  manifestation  of  God  is  much  more  transparent 
in  an  angel  than  in  a  prophet,  inasmuch  as  the  former  is  a  purely 
spiritual  and  sinless  being.  In  and  through  the  angel  it  is  indeed 
not  the  Deity  exclusively  who  appears,  but  it  approximates  that 
residt,  as  the  angel  wholly  and  passively  surrenders  himself  an 
instrimient  to  Divine  activity,  and  transmits  the  rays  of  Divine 
glory  unbroken  and  undarkened." 

In  conclusion  we  have  to  reply  to  two  queries.  First :  Is  the 
Maleach  Jehovah  one  and  the  same  personage  throughout  the 
whole  liistory  of  salvation,  or  is  he  indeed  a  definite  person  cliosen 
for  every  appearance,  but  not  always  one  and  the  same  personage  ? 
PhilologicaUy  spealdng,  either  of  these  views  were  admissible. 
For  as  'TTi>^S^  is  not  the  designation  of  a  person  but  of  an  office, 
the  nin^  lTb^S?D  ^6ed  not  always  indicate  one  and  the  same  person, 
but  only  that  personage  to  whom  the  office  pointed  out  in  the 
status  constructus  is  entrusted,  viz.,  to  represent  the  personal 
presence  of  Jehovah.  Tliis  question,  therefore,  can  only  be 
answered  by  a  study  of  the  history  of  tliis  subject.  From  Dan. 
X.  21  and  xii.  1  we  learn  that  among  the  angelic  princes  one, 
who  bears  the  name  of  Michael,  presides  especially  over  Israel, 
being  deputed  by  the  Lord  and  employed  by  Him  to  watch  over 
the  history  of  the  chosen  race.  But  this  angel  manifestly  occu- 
pies the  position  which  the  more  ancient  liistorical  books  had 
assigned  to  the  Maleach  Jehovah.  We  therefore  agree  with 
Hofmann  (Script.  Demonstr.  i,  33)  in  the  opinion  that  this  angel 
is  specially  meant  whenever  the  Angel  of  Jehovah  appears  as 
engaged  in  some  service  particularly  connected  with  the  liistory 
of  Abraham  and  his  chosen  seed.  But  this  reasoning  does  not 
hold  good  in  cases  when  an  angel-representative  of  the  Lord  is 
sent  to  persons  who  are  beyond  the  circle  of  the  chosen  seed,  as 
for  example  to  Hagar  and  to  Lot. 

It  may  farther  be  asked  whether  this  manifestation  of  God  in 
the  Maleach  Jehovah  was  the  only  form  of  theophany  in  the  Old 
Covenant,  or  whether  the  Lord  had  personally  appeared  in  another 
manner  than  by  the  mediiun  and  through  the  representation  of 
an  angel,  deputed  for  that  purpose.  Hofmann  adopts  the  former 
view  (Script.  Demonstr.  i.  p.  331.)  He  argues  that,  "  as  after- 
wards the  two  expressions  nilT^  t^'^^'T  ^"^^  mrT^  TTt^^^^  t^1"'T 
are  used  promiscuously  whenever  manifestations  of  God  are 
recorded,  and  cvitlently  mean  the  same  tiring,  we  are  not  only 
warranted  but  hound  to  apply  the  inference  derived  from  this  to 
all  manifestations  of  God."  We  caimot  allow  that  this  argiunent 
is  conclusive,  although  we  are  inclined  to  legard  every  manifes- 
tation of  God,  made  patent  to  waking  and  sensible  consciousness 


200  THE  FAMILY.    (§  50.) 

(us  for  example  in  Gen.  xii.  7  and  x\'ii.  1),  as  having  taken  place 
through  the  Maleach  Jehovah.  This  suggestion  we  would  sup- 
port by  the  follomng  reasons : — (1)  Man  has  since  the  fall  become 
so  much  estranged  from  his  original  communion  with  God  that 
he  is  no  longer  able  to  bear  an  immediate  manifestation  of  God. 
"  We  behold  in  a  glass  darkly'  (1  Cor.  xiii.  12.)  In  the  history 
of  the  patriarchs,  the  Maleach  Jehovah,  the  \dsion,  the  di-eam, 
the  symbol  and  the  Word  of  God,  Avhether  as  voice  from  heaven 
auchble  to  the  ear,  or  only  as  inward  suggestion,  represented 
these  "  mysterious  (dark)  glasses."  (2)  Considering  the  impor- 
tant position  assigned  to  the  Maleach  Jehovah  in  the  whole  his- 
tory of  the  Old  Covenant,  it  is  probable  that  even  the  first  -sdsible 
manifestation  of  the  Covenant-God  (Gen.  xii.  7 ; — according  to 
Acts  vii.  2,  Gen.  xii.  1  would  also  belong  to  this  category)  had 
taken  place  in  a  form  which  seems  afterwards  to  have  been  so 
constantly  adopted.  -  (3)  We  conceive  that  the  outward  appear- 
ance of  the  Maleach  Jehovah  was  Hke  that  of  an  ordinary 
man,  as  those  who  for  the  fii'st  time  beheld  him  supposed  him 
to  be  such  (Gen.  xvi.  8,  xix.  2 ;  Josh.  v.  13 ;  Judg.  vi.  13,  xiii. 
6,  8,  15),  and  only  afterwards  perceived  his  heavenly  origin. 
It  is  otherwise  in  the  case  of  Abraham,  Gen.  xviii.  3.  At  the 
first  view  of  his  exalted  guests  he  recognises  and  salutes  Jehovah 
in  them.  This  mode  of  manifestation  seems,  therefore,  not  to 
have  been  new  to  Mm ;  and  the  event  recorded  in  Gen.  xii.  7 
was  probably  the  occasion  of  his  first  becoming  acquainted  with 
it. 

Since  then  the  Maleach  Jehovah  is  a  created  being  in  whom 
God  makes  His  personal  presence  known  to  man,  in  a  manner 
accessible  to  his  senses,  and  through  whom  in  accordance  ^x\i\\ 
His  Covenant  purposes  He  actively  interposes  in  the  events 
which  were  to  prepare  the  way  of  salvation — what  relation,  we 
may  ask,  does  this  manifestation  of  God  bear  to  the  high  point 
of  all  these  manifestations,  we  mean,  to  the  incarnation  of  God 
in  Christ  ?  In  our  opinion  the  Maleach  Jehovah,  ^dewing  him 
as  we  have  done  above,  was  typical  of  the  incarnation.  The 
whole  preparatory  history  of  salvation  points  forward  to  the 
incarnation,  and,  from  the  first,  God  overrided  and  directed  all 
things  in  such  a  manner  that  every  event  tended  towards  that 
great  fact.  The  manifestation  of  God  in  the  Maleach  Jehovah 
was  a  testimony  and  an  earnest  of  His  pm'poses  in  that  respect, 
and  of  their  ripening.  The  liistory  of  salvation  had  indeed  not 
as  yet  so  far  progressed  in  its  development  that  God  coidd 
become  incarnate  in  a  man,  for  He  in  whom  alone  this  miracle 
of  grace  could  take  place  had  not  yet  come  and  could  not  yet 
come.  But  to  manifest  Himself  in  a  transient,  i.e.  to  some 
extent  in  an   iJlnsory.  liuman  form  would  not  have  been  in 


TUE  ANGEL  OF  THE  LOKD.  (§  50.)  201 

accordance  with  the  solemn  reahty  of  the  case.  We  conceive 
that  any  form  which  the  Lord  had  called  forth  for  the  pm-pose 
of  a  momentary  outward  manifestation  of  Himself  would,  espe- 
cially if  the  form  so  chosen  had  been  that  of  a  personal  creatm-e, 
have  been  real,  and  hence  also  permanent.  It  was  on  this  ground, 
we  venture  to  suggest,  that  God  chose  for  the  pui'pose  of  mani- 
festing Himself  an  individual  from  among  the  holy  angels.  The 
Maleach  Jehovah  is  a  type  of  the  incarnation  of  God.  But  it  is 
not  God  Himself  who  immediately  takes  human  form  ;  the  angel 
in  A\'hom  He  appears  takes  the  form  of  a  man,  and  he  can  readily 
do  this,  because  he  lias  already  a  corporeal  form  which  is  either 
in  itself  analogous  to  that  of  man,  or  at  least  can  readily  accom- 
modate itself  to  it. 

Note. — For  the  better  understanding  of  the  liistory  of  this 
period,  we  prefix  to  it  a  genealogical  table  of  the  family-connec- 
tions to  wliicli  it  refers. 

Terali 


Haran.  Nahor,  Abeam, 
V  By  Milcah, , 


Iscah,  Milcah,  Lot.       , — * — ^  By  Hagar.    By  Sarai.  By  Kethurah. 

, ^ ^Bethuel.  |  |  | 

Amon,  Moab.  Ishmael.         Isaac.        Six  Sons. 


Laban,  Rebecca.  By  Rebecca. 


Leah,  Rachel.        Esau  (Edom),     Jacob  (Israel.) 


By  Leah.  By  Bilhah.       By  Zilpah.  By  Rachel. 

Reuben,  Simeon,  Levi,  Dan,  Naphtali  Gad,  Asher  Joseph,  Benjamin 

Judah,  Issachar,  Ze-  , * s 

bulon,  Dinah.  Ephraim,  Manasseh. 


(  203  ) 


FIRST  CYCLE   IN  THE  HISTORY   OF   THE 
PATRIARCHAL  FAMILY. 


ABRAHAM, 


CALLING  AND  PILGRIMAGE  OF  ABRAHAM. 


§  51.  (Gen.  xii.  1 — 9.) — The  Lord  chose  Abram,  the  son  of 
Terah — according  to  the  genealogy  handed  down  to  us,  the  tenth 
in  the  series  of  patriarchs  since  the  flood — to  commence  with  him 
a  new  stage  in  the  development  of  salvation  (1.)  His  calling 
took  place  when  he  was  in  the  seventy-fifth  year  of  liis  age  (2.) 
It  involved  a  forsaking  of  what  was  heliind,  and  a  seeking  after 
something  new.  It  consisted  in  a  call  to  leave  his  country  and 
kindred,  to  sever  those  ties  which  hound  one  that  was  childless 
to  liis  people  and  family  (3)  ;  and  in  a  promise  that  instead  of 
his  former  home,  shared  hy  those  whom  he  was  now  to  leave,  he 
would  find  a  new  home,  which  would  belong  to  him  alone,  and 
that  instead  of  those  advantages  wliich  a  connection  with  the 
collateral  branches  of  his  family  held  out,  himself  should  become 
a  great  nation,  and  that /rom  him  blessings  and  salvation  should 
issue  to  all  nations  (4.)  In  every  relation  g7'ace  was  to  take  the 
place  of  natu7'e,  as  the  covenant  into  which  his  calling  introduced 
him  was  entirely  one  of  grace.  Abram  was  not  to  expect  any- 
thing from  nature,  but  everything  from  grace.  This  Di\dne 
promise  called  forth  his  faith,  the  Di\dne  command  his  obedience  : 
he  believed,  renounced,  and  obeyed.  With  his  wife  Sarai,  and 
accompanied  by  Lot,  his  sister's  son  (5),  he  goes  forth  without  ^^loikojt's 
knowing  liis  destination.  In  the  "  plain"  of  Moreh,  near  Sychem, 
he  is  informed  that  he  has  now  reached  the  end  of  liis  journey. 
Jehovah  appeared  unto  him,  and  said,  "  Unto  thy  seed  will  I 
give  this  land."  Abram  then  consecrates  the  place  where 
Jehovah  had  appeared  to  him,  by  building  an  altar.  After  tliat 
he  pitched  his  tent  on  a  mountain  between  Hai  and  Bethel. 


204  ABRAHAM.    (§  51.) 

There  also  he  built  an  altar,  and  called  upon  the  name  of  the 
Lord  (6.) 

(1.)  The  sepmxition  and  exclusion  which  the  calling  of  Abra- 
ham and  of  liis  seed  imphed,  was  necessary,  and  prepared  the 
way  for  a  dispensation  ivhich  ivas  to  embrace  all  nations.  God 
had  indeed  conferred  a  liigh  distinction ;  but  to  enjoy  it,  the 
world  and  self  had  to  be  renounced,  wliile  all  along  the  chosen 
people  were  subjected  to  a  discipline  and  training,  and  visited  by 
punishments  and  judgments,  such  as  no  other  people  required. 
Together  with  the  distinction  so  vouchsafed,  a  yoke  was  laid  on 
the  chosen  people  which  every  other  nation  would  have  felt  in- 
tolerable. Besides,  it  required  a  disposition  of  character  which 
is  not  readily  found.  It  must  also  be  remembered  that  God 
chose  in  Abram  a  people  which  as  yet  did  not  exist,  and  which 
He  was  to  call  into  being  by  His  ahnighty  power,  irapa  (pvaiv, 
from  a  sterile  body  wliich  Avas  as  good  as  dead. 

('2.)  It  has  always  been  matter  of  dispute  whether  the  calling 
and  journey  of  Abram  had  taken  place  during  the  lifetime  or 
after  the  death  of  Terah.     If  the  latter  had  been  the  case,  Abram 
must  have  been  born  in  the  130th  year  of  Terah.     The  statement 
(ch.  xi.  26)   "  Terah  lived  seventy  years,  and  begat  Abram, 
Nahor,  and  Haran,"  must  then  be  understood  as  meaning  that 
Haran  (the  oldest  of  the  tlu'ee)  was  born  when  Terah  was  seventy 
years  old,  but  that  sixty  years  elapsed  between  his  birth  and  that 
of  Abram,  the  youngest  son.     But  in  our  view  the  statement  in 
ch.  xi.  26  (as  that  in  ch.  v.  32)  is  intended  to  furnish  a  chrono- 
logical datmn,  and  refers  to  Abram  (who  is  first  named  amoiig 
the  three  sons),  in  whose  history  the  clu'onological  thread  is  con- 
tinued.    This  passage  leaves  it  therefore  undecided  which  of  the 
tliree  sons  was  the  oldest.     But  as  Terah  died  at  the  age  of  205 
years  (xi.  32),  and  Abram  was  seventy-five  years  old  when  he 
departed,  the  latter  event  must  have  taken  place  in  the  130th 
year  of  Terah,  or  sixty  years  before  his  death.     Despite  these 
indubitable  data,  the  departure  of  Abram  has  generally  been 
supposed  to  have  taken  place  in  the  year  when  Terah  died,  be- 
cause, misunderstanding  the  historical  style  adopted  in  Genesis, 
it  has  been  assumed  that  Abram  left  after  the  death  of  Terah, 
inasmuch  as  the  latter  event  was  recorded  before  the  former. 
Hence  the  Samaritan  version  alters,  in  xi.  32,  the  age  of  Terah 
from  205  to  145  years,  while  in  Acts  vii.  4,  Stephen  expressly 
states  that  Abraham  had  dei)arted  after  the  death  of  his  father. 
But  the  arbitrary  alteration  of  the  Samaritan  text  deserves  no 
more  credit  in  this  than  in  other  instances,  while  the  statement 
of  Stephen  can  only  be  regarded  as  indicating  what,  at  the  time, 
was  the  view  current  among  the  Jews.     Many  clironologists  and 


CALLING  OF  ABRAM.    (§51.)  205 

inteipreters,  however  (such  as  Usher,  Frank,  &c.),  have  deemed 
themselves  bound  to  submit  to  the  authority  of  Stephen.  Some 
have  attempted,  though  in  vain,  to  reconcile  the  two  views  above 
mentioned.  In  general,  comp.  Kanne,  Bibl.  Researches,  i.,  p.  8 
and  following;  Banke,  Investig.  i.,  p.  198,  &c.  ;  Tiele,  Chronol. 
p.  28 ;  Jieinke,  Contrib.  to  the  Explanation  of  the  Old  Test., 
Miinster,  1851,  p.  86,  and  following  ;  and  others.  According  to 
the  chronological  data  of  the  text,  the  calling  of  Abram  took 
place  when  Terah  was  145  years  old,  or  in  the  year  of  the  world 
2021,  and  365  after  the  flood. 

(3.)  The  COMMANDMENT  of  Jeliovcili — "  Get  thee  out  of  thy 
coimh^,  and  from  thy  kindi^ed,  and  from  thy  fathers  house, 
tmfo  a  land  that  I  will  shoiuthee"  imports  both  sometliing  objec- 
tive and  something  subjective.  The  Divine  interference  with  (the 
negation  of)  the  attempts  at  ungodly  (because  godless)  human 
develoi)ment,  wliich  commenced  with  the  confusion  of  tongues 
and  the  scattering  of  the  nations,  became  com])lete  when  Abram 
was  singled  out.  In  the  former  case,  the  separation  was  forced, 
in  the  latter  it  was  voluntary ;  in  the  former  case,  it  was  merely 
the  act  of  Grod,  in  the  latter  that  of  God  and  of  man.  In  the 
former  case,  God  had  merely  interfered  to  prevent ;  in  this,  we 
perceive  more  than  mere  interference — a  positive  purpose.  There 
God  interfered  iw  judgment ;  \\qyq  grace  is  manifestly  the  final 
purpose  of  the  judgment.  He  judges  in  order  to  bless ;  He 
separates  in  order  to  unite.  A  new  order  of  things  was  to  com- 
mence with  Abram.  He  had  therefore  to  forsake  what  was  be- 
hind, to  be  separated  from  his  kindred  and  i)eople,  else  he  would 
have  remained  only  a  member  in  the  old  chain,  the  chief  of  one 
of  the  common  nomadic  tribes  ;  even  irrespective  of  the  fact  that 
to  retain  his  former  connection  would  have  involved  imminent 
perU,  as  idolatry  had  made  rapid  strides  among  those  by  whom 
he  was  surrounded.  (Josh.  xxiv.  2,  14.)  Had  he  remained  with 
his  kindred,  the  peculiar  religious  and  political  development  of 
his  descendants  woidd  have  been  impeded  and  retarded ;  sooner 
or  later  he  or  liis  posterity  would  have  been  lured  back,  and  their 
national  life  s^jrimg  up  and  grown  on  the  soil  of  nature  and 
heathenism.  Again,  viewed  subjectively,  the  call  of  Abram  im- 
plied a  trial  and  confirmation  of  his  obechence  of  faith,  by  exact- 
ing renunciation  and  self-denial,  hoping  and  waiting.  These 
were  to  become  the  distinctive  characteristics  in  the  popular  and 
national  life  of  the  covenant  peo])le,  and  hence  were  also  tyjiically 
brought  into  the  fore-ground  as  the  characteristics  of  their  an- 
cestor. 

(4.)  Abraham  obtained  this  promise  (comp.  Hengstenherg, 
Christol.,  i.,  p.  53  and  following;  Sack,  Apologet.,  2d  ed.,  p. 
267,  &c.  ;  Hofmann,  Predict,  i.,  p.  97) — "  /  will  make  of  thee 


206  ABKAHAM.    (§  51.) 

a  great  nation,  and  I  iv ill  bless  thee,  and  make  thy  name  great; 
and  thou  shalt  he  a  blessing :  and  I  will  bless  them  that  bless 
thee,  and  curse  him  that  curseth  thee :  and  in  thee  shall  all 
families  of  the  earth  be  blessed."  In  this  promise  the  blessing 
first  given  to  Shem,  in  Gen.  ix.  26,  27  (comp.  §  28),  is  again 
taken  np,  continued,  and  more  fully  unfolded.  In  the  promise, 
"  Unto  thy  seed  will  I  give  this  land,"  the  sentence  of  bondage, 
to  which  Canaan  had  been  condemned,  is  implied,  and  again 
confirmed,  but  tliis  time  only  in  so  far  as  it  was  a  blessing  to 
Abram,  and  not  as  a  curse  upon  Canaan.  Similarly  is  the  j^ro- 
mise  that  Japheth  was  to  find  Jehovah  and  His  salvation  in  the 
tents  of  Shem  again  taken  up  in  the  words — "  In  thee  shall  all 
families  of  the  earth  be  blessed,"  only  that  .it  is  no  longer  re- 
stricted to  the  descendants  of  Japheth,  but  extended  to  all  the 
nations  who  do  not  refuse  the  blessing  coming  from  the  seed  of 
Abraham.  That  wliich  gives  its  emphasis  to  this  blessing  is, 
that  at  the  time  Abram  was  childless,  and  his  wife  barren.  The 
glorious  fulness  which  is  treasured  up  in  tliis  blessing  rests  upon 
a  physical  impossibihty.  Only  a  mu'acle  of  almighty  power  can 
bring  a  numerous  progeny  from  the  dead  womb  of  Sarai.  Tliis 
very  circumstance  elevates  the  whole  development  above  the 
sphere  of  mere  natm-e,  and  transports  it  into  that  of  grace.  The 
j^romise  starts  at  a  point  where  the  isolation  is  most  marked,  and 
it  advances  till  it  reaches  a  point  where  it  embraces  all.  Bless- 
ing and  salvation  are  to  extend  from  chosen  and  blessed  Abram 
to  all  mankind.  This  prediction  contains  both  the  foundation 
and  the  aim,  the  commencement  and  the  close  of  the  new  liistory 
which  commenced  with  him.  But  the  blessings  which  are  to 
extend  through  Abram  to  all  nations  cannot  be  other  than  those 
which  had  been  first  vouchsafed  to  Abram  and  his  seed,  viz. ,  the 
knowledge,  fellowship,  and  love  of  the  one  true  Grod,  and  all  those 
benefits  of  salvation  wliich  flow  from  tliis  source.  If  it  is  asked 
whether  this  prediction  was  3Iessianic,  we  answer — if  by  that 
expression  (as  its  terms,  strictly  speaking,  bear)  only  such  pre- 
dictions are  meant  wliich  imply  consciousness  of  a  futm'e,  joe^- 
sonal  Messiah — No.  On  the  other  hand,  we  answer  the  question 
affirmatively,  if  every  reference  to  the  great  salvation  is  designated 
as  Messianic,  even  where  the  knowledge  of  a  personal  Sa\dour 
was  wanting.  For  notliing  is  more  certain  than  that  this  pre- 
diction does  not  as  yet  contain  any  liiiit  which  might  have  called 
such  knowledge  into  existence.  The  seed  of  Abraham,  i.e.,  the 
people  which  descended  from  Abraham,  in  its  totahty  and  unity, 
is  to  be  the  medium  of  salvation.  The  hypothesis  of  Hengsten- 
berg  (1.  c,  p.  57),  who  admits  this,  but  suggests  as  more  than 
probable  that  Abram  had  obtained  another  revelation,  not  re- 
corded in  the  text,  and  in  which  what  in  this  blessing  remained 


CALLING  OF  ABRAM.    (§  51.)  207 

indefinite  was  clearly  explained,  is  not  only  entirely  groundless, 
but  even  inadmissible.  As  yet  the  liO})e  of  the  patriarchs  of  a 
coming  salvation  was  dependent  on  their  expectation  that  from 
the  one  ancestor  a  great  nation  was  to  spring.  Only  after  this 
ho]ie  had  become  a  reality  could  the  expectation  of  salvation, 
which  had  depended  upon  this,  concentrate  itself,  and  rise  into 
waiting  for  a  personal  Messiah.  For  a  more  full  argumentation 
on  this  sul)ject,  we  refer  the  reader  to  §  94,  3.  If  from  the  close 
relationship  in  wliich  Abram  stood  to  God  (Gren.  xviii.  17),  we 
were  to  suppose  a  deeper  insight  on  his  part,  we  might  as  well 
infer  that  he  had  been  Divinely  instructed  in  all  religious 
mysteries.  The  saying  of  the  Lord,  (John  viii.  56),  "  Abraham 
rejoiced  to  see  my  day,  and  he  saw  it,  and  was  glad,"  must  be 
taken  as  uttered  in  the  fulness  of  New  Testament  consciousness. 
What  had  been  promised  to  Abram,  filled  his  heart  with  joy 
and  longing ;  and  Christ  designates  as  his  day  the  period  when 
the  promise  which  Abram  had  seen  in  spirit  and  reahsed  by 
faith,  was  fidfilled.  Delitzsch,  who  takes  the  same  view,  aptly 
remarks,  p.  261 : — "  The  salvation  of  Jehovah  is  to  be  brought 
about  l)y  the  mediimi  of  Abraham  !  Thus  far  has  the  promise 
of  salvation  been  unfolded.  Already  it  points  to  the  imion  of 
Divinity  with  humanity ;  but  its  human  aspect  is  as  yet  inde- 
finite, and  points  to  a  ^-^-j,  an  expression  which  might  either 

ajiply  to  a  race  or  to  a  person.  The  real  basis  of  the  promise  is 
still  found  only  in  its  Divine  aspect,  according  to  which  Jehovah 
is  to  make  use  of  the  seed  of  Abraham,  in  order  to  bring  about 
the  salvation  of  man.  As  yet  it  is  not  revealed  that  Himself  is 
to  become  incarnate,  and  to  take  upon  Him  the  seed  of  Abra- 
ham." This  second  promise,  then,  rests  on  the  same  foundation  of 
indefinite  generality  as  the  first  in  Gen.  iii.  15.  But  already  dis- 
tinct progress  has  been  made  in  the  transition  from  the  one  to  the 
other.  In  the  former  case,  the  promised  salvation  was  described 
as  coming  through  the  human  family  generally ;  in  this  it  is 
Kmited  to  the  seed  of  Abraham.  In  the  former  case,  only  an 
assurance  was  conveyed  that  destruction  would  be  averted ;  in 
tliis,  positive  blessings  are  already  held  out. 

It  is  a  thorough  misunderstanding  on  the  part  of  W.  Renter 
(in  H.  Reuter's  Repertor.  for  1846,  p.  122),  when  he  says  that 
"  if  the  New  Testament  commandment,  '  Love  your  enennes, 
bless  them  that  curse  you,'  &c.,  really  })r<,)ceeded  from  Divine 
revelation,  the  promise  of  Jehovah,  '  Him  that  cursetli  thee  I 
will  curse,'  &c.,  cannot  be  regarded  as  in  the  same  manner  re- 
vealed." The  two  statements  cannot  be  held  side  by  side  with 
each  other.  It  is  not  that  here,  as  in  many  other  places  (for 
example,  in  2  Kings  i.  10,  as  comp.  with  Luke  ix.  54,  &c.),  we 
have  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  stand-point  of  the  Old  was  diifereut 


208  ABRAHAM.    (§51.) 

from  that  of  the  New  Testament,  but  that  in  the  one  case  it  is 
God  who  speaks  as  the  just  and  holy  judge  and  avenger,  in  the 
other  it  is  mail  who  is  addressed,  as  a  sinner  who  requires  grace 
and  pardon,  and  who  having  obtained  pardon  and  grace,  should 
again  unconditionally  forgive  and  love  even  those  that  had  of- 
fended against  him.  There  is  no  analogy  in  this  respect  between 
the  conduct  of  Grod  and  that  of  man,  either  in  the  Old  or  in  the 
New  Testament.  In  the  latter,  it  is  written  as  distinctly  (Heb. 
X.  30)  as  in  the  Old  Testament  (Deut.  xxxii.  35,  &c.),  "  Ven- 
geance is  mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord,"  and  one  and  the 
same  rule  must  always  apply  to  the  deahngs  of  the  gi-eat  Judge, 
viz..  "An  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth."  Besides, 
Abraham  is  here  not  viewed  as  an  individual,  but  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  chosen  race,  and  as  the  medium  by  which  the 
great  salvation  was  to  be  developed.  Hence  those  who  cursed 
Abraham  were  not  his  personal  enemies,  but  rather  those  who 
opposed  and  distm-bed  the  Divine  plan  ;  in  Abraham  and  in 
his  seed  they  hated,  not  the  person,  but  the  calling  and  the 
place  which  Grod  had  assigned  to  it  in  reference  to  other  nations. 
The  curse  of  God  therefore  impHes  his  retributive  justice,  mani- 
fested in  the  liistory  of  the  ivot^Id,  by  which  the  curse  wliich  the 
nations  and  kingdoms  of  the  world  would  bring  upon  the  chosen 
race  is  thrown  back  upon  themselves.  The  whole  history  of 
Israel,  and  of  its  collisions  with  other  nations,  shows  that  God 
was  in  earnest  in  pronouncing  this  cm'se,  and  that  it  was  literally 
fulfilled.  One  after  the  other,  the  Egyptians,  the  Amalekites, 
the  Edomites,  the  Moabites,  the  Ammonites,  the  Syrians,  and 
the  Assyrians,  the  Chaldeans,  the  Persians,  the  GreelvS,  and  the 
Komans  have  faUen  under  this  curse.  But  let  it  not  be  thought 
that  such  tln-eatenings  and  denunciations  would,  in  Abraham 
and  his  posterity,  have  excited  hatred  or  resentment  towards  the 
heathen.  The  opposite  of  this  is  the  case.  For  when  God  says, 
"  Vengeance  is  mine,"  He  clearly  intimates  that  its  execution  was 
not  to  be  left  to  Abraham ;  and  when  He  adds,  "  in  thee  shall  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed,"  He  plainly  indicates  that 
theirs  it  was  to  bless  and  not  to  cm'se. 

(5.)  God  had  not  intended  that  Lot  should  jom  Abraham  on 
his  journey.  This  is  sufficiently  manifest  from  liis  later  liistory. 
But  God  allowed  it,  probably  from  condescension  to  Abraham's 
attachment  to  his  family. 

(6.)  We  add  some  explanations  as  to  the  localities  to  wliich 
we  have  referred  in  the  text.  The  pilgrims  passed  through  the 
plain  of  Jezreel,  which,  so  to  speak,  formed  a  large  gateway  into 
the  land  (§  40,  2),  and  then  turned  to  the  momitains  of  Ephraim. 
Sychem  (the  present  Nabulus)  lies  in  the  beautiful  and  fruitful 
vallev  which  divides  Mounts  Ebal  and  Gerizim ;  to  the  south, 


CALLING  OF  ABRAM.    (§51.)  209 

the  broad  plain  of  el-Miikhna  joins  this  valley.  The  name  wliicli 
it  still  bears  ("place  of  encampment"),  reminds  us  of  the  time 
when  the  patriarchs  passed  through  it.  liohinson,  who  entered 
the  valley  of  Sychem  through  Miikhna,  describes  it  as  one  of  the 
most  attractive  portions  of  Palestine.  "  All  at  once  (he  writes, 
vol.  ii.  p.  275)  the  ground  sinks  down  to  a  valley  running  towards 
the  west,  Avith  a  soil  of  rich  black  vegetable  mould.  Here  a  scene 
of  luxiu'iant  and  almost  un])aralleled  verdure  bursts  upon  our  view. 
The  whole  valley  was  fiUed  with  gardens  of  vegetables  and 
orchards  of  all  lands  of  fruits,  watered  by  several  fountains,  which 
bm*st  forth  in  various  parts  and  flow  westward  in  refreshing 
streams.  It  came  upon  us  suddenly,  like  a  scene  of  fairy  enchant- 
ment. We  saw  nothing  to  compare  with  it  in  all  Palestine." 
Such  then  must  have  been  the  tirst  view  which  Abraham  got  of 
the  land  of  promise.  The  plain  (or  rather  the  wood)  of  3Iorch, 
where  Al)raham  settled,  probably  derived  its  name  from  the 
Canaanitish  projjrietor  of  that  district.  Abram  journeyed  south- 
wards for  the  sake  of  pasturage.  The  town  of  Bethel  was 
originally  called  Luz  (Judg.  i.  23  ;  Josh,  xviii.  13),  and  here  only 
bears  the  former  name  " per  2yrohpsin."  According  to  Robinson 
the  ruins  beside  the  little  village  of  Maldirun,  which  by  the  people 
are  called  Beitin,  are  the  remains  of  ancient  Bethel.  They  lie 
five  geographical  miles  to  the  south  of  Sychem,  two  geograpliical 
miles  north  of  Jerusalem,  and  at  the  entrance  of  a  valley  which 
debouches  into  Wady  Kelt  (compare  §  40,  4,  liohinson  vol.  i. 
])\).  448  and  449.)  The  agreement  l)oth  of  situation  and  of  name 
affords  decisive  confirmation  that  Beitin  is  the  ancient  Bethel. 
The  Arabic  termination  in  for  the  Hebrew  el  is  not  an  unusual 
change.  Latterly  this  view  has  been  quite  established  by  the 
discovery  of  the  ancient  Ai.  liohinson  vainly  sought  to  discover 
traces  of  Ai,  which,  according  to  Joshua  vii.  2,  viii.  1,  lay  on  the 
east  of  Bethel,  and  not  far  from  it.  But  he  supposes  it  probable 
that  this  city  is  represented  l^y  a  ruin  half-an-liour  to  the  soutli- 
east  of  Beitin,  and  near  the  village  Deir  Duwan  (vol.  i.  pj).  443 
and  575.)  But  Krafff  and  Strauss  (compare  Krafft,  Topogr.  of 
Jerus.  p.  9,  and  Strauss,  Sinai  and  Golgotha,  2d  ed.,  p.  365) 
discovered  about  an  hour  to  the  east  of  Jeba  (the  Geba  of  Saul), 
and  hence  about  two  hours  to  the  east  of  Beitin,  some  ruins  upon 
a  height,  overhanging  Wady  es-Suweinit,  which  bear  among  the 
Arabs  the  name  Medinet-Chai,  and  Avhich  they  identify  with 
the  ancient  Ai.  Stniuss  describes  them  as  follows.  "  The 
mountain  on  whicli  (Jibeah  is  built  descends  on  the  eastern  side 
of  the  town,  and  runs  into  a  ])lain  whicli  stretches  eastward. 
FolloAving  it,  we  reached  in  hab"-an-hour  a  hill-like  elevation, 
Avhere  we  discovered  the  ruins  of  Medinet-Chai,  or  Ai.  They 
consist  of  a  considerable  (piantity  of  ruins,  smTounded  by  a 

\T)L.   L  o 


210  ABRAHAM.    (§  52.) 

circular  wall,  and  the  place  is  further  protected  by  the  precipitous 
rocks  which  form  the  sides  of  the  valley  of  Farah  to  the  south, 
and  of  the  valley  of  Suweinit  to  the  north  (which  join  half-an-hour 
farther  east.)"  We  shall  by  and  by  see  how  well  this  description 
tallies  with  the  statements  of  the  Old  Testament,  especially  mth 
the  account  of  the  expedition  of  Joshua  against  Ai.  With  such 
testimonies  in  its  favour,  the  hypothesis  of  Thenius  (in  Kauffers 
Bibl.  Stud.  II,  p.  129,  &c.,  to  which  Keil,  Comm.  on  the  Book 
of  Kings,  p.  325,  &c.,  and  on  the  Book  of  Joshua,  p.  112,  &c.,  has 
also  adhered),  who  identifies  Bethel  with  the  little  village  Sinjil, 
to  the  south-west  of  Seilun,  and  Ai  with  the  village  of  Turmus 
'Aya  (Rohinson  ii.  p.  267),  not  far  to  the  east  of  Sinjil,  cannot 
bear  investigation.  It  is  indeed  true  that  some  weight  attaches 
to  his  reasoning  against  the  identity  of  Beitin  and  Bethel,  but 
his  arguments  are  not  so  strong  as  to  set  aside  the  similarity  of 
the  names.  Still  less  important  is  the  suggestion  of  Gross  (in 
Tholnck's  Anz.  1846,  No.  54,  &c.),  who,  admitting  the  identity 
of  Beitin  and  Bethel,  finds  Ai  in  the  village  Taiyibeh,  about 
half  an  hour  to  the  north-east  of  Beitin. 


ABRAM  IN  EGYPT. 

§  52.  (Gren.  xii.  10,  &c.) — But  soon  the  joy  of  Abram,  occa- 
sioned by  the  beauty  of  the  land  Avhich  he  had  entered,  and  the 
possession  of  wliich  had  been  promised  to  his  seed,  gives  place  to 
sorrow.  A  new  and  a  heav}^  trial  awaits  him.  The  country 
which  had  been  assigned  to  him  in  room  of  all  he  had  sm-rendered, 
is  visited  with  famine,  and  he  and  his  numerous  dependants  can 
no  longer  find  sustenance  in  it.  To  avoid  the  impending  danger, 
he  leaves  the  land  of  promise,  and,  without  waiting  for  direction 
fi'om  on  high,  journeys  into  fertile  Egypt,  to  the  borders  of  which 
he  had  approached  during  his  nomadic  migrations  through  the 
land  of  promise.  Thus  he  escapes  indeed  the  trial  which  God 
had  prepared  for  him,  but  he  rushes  into  an  ordeal  much  more 
trying  and  severe.  He  is  in  danger  of  not  only  loosing  the  land 
of  promise,  which  himself  had  now  given  up,  but  also  the  other 
and  much  more  important  part  of  the  blessing,  the  promised 
seed.  As  he  could  not  but  fear  that  the  beauty  of  his  wife  might 
become  a  source  of  danger  to  him  among  the  voluptuous  Eg}^- 
/'/:tians  (2),  he  passes  her  off  as  his  sister,  deeming  it  sufficient 
excuse  that  she  was  in  rcahty  a  half  sister  (ch.  xx.  12)  (2.)     In 


ABHAM  IN  EGYl'T.    (§  nS.)  211 

point  of  fact  her  beauty  attracted  the  attention  of  Pharaoh's 
princes,  and,  contrary  to  Abram's  expectation,  she  is  sent  for  to 
Pharaoh's  liarem,  while  numerous  presents  which  woukl  be  of 
vahie  to  a  nomadic  chief  are  given  to  her  supposed  brother.  But 
imlike  Abram,  Jehovah  does  not  surrender  her  wlio  was  to  be 
the  mother  of  the  promised  seed.  He  \asited  Pharaoh  and  his 
house  with  great  plagues.  Thus  the  attention  of  the  king  was 
aroused,  and  by  and  by  he  ascertained  the  true  state  of  the  case. 
He  addressed  to  Abram  reproaches  not  wholly  undeserved, 
although  they  scarcely  excuse  his  own  conduct,  and  returned  to 
the  Patriarch  his  wife  without  having  touched  her  (3.)  Con- 
voyed by  a  royal  guard  of  honour,  Abram  returns  to  Palestine. 

(1.)  Some  have  taken  exception  to  the  historical  character  of 
this  narrative,  on  account  of  the  age  of  Sai-ai  (which  must  have 
been  between  sixty-five  and  seventy  years.)  But  we  must  re- 
member that  at  that  time  a  man's  life  commonly  lasted  twice  as 
long  as  at  present.  Besides  a  noble  nomadic  princess,  such  as 
Sarai,  must  have  led  a  life  free  from  all  trouble  and  anxiety, 
while  the  beneficial  influence  of  continual  exposure  to  fresh  air 
must  have  contributed  to  preserve  her  healtli  and  beauty.  Nor 
can  we  wonder  that  Sarai  seemed  to  the  Eg'j'ptians  of  rare  beauty 
as  compared  with  their  own  women,  who,  from  all  accounts, 
ancient  and  modern,  are  commonly  sunburnt  and  inattractive. 

(2.)  On  Abram's  conduct  in  Egypt,  compare  the  essay  by 
Hengstenherg  on  the  unholiness  of  holy  persons,  in  his  Contrib. 
vol.  iii.  p.  526,  &c.  We  have  first  to  consider  what  Abram  could 
gain  by  pretending  that  Sarai  was  merely  his  sister.  If  she  had 
been  introduced  as  his  wife,  any  one  who  wished  to  possess  her 
could  only  attain  this  by  violence,  wliich  would  have  greatly 
endangered  the  life  of  Abram.  But  if  she  passed  for  liis  sister, 
it  seemed  probable  that  overtures  would  be  made,  and  thus  time, 
in  this  case  the  one  thing  requisite,  gained.  Besides,  he  probably 
hoped  that  Jehovah,  who  had  destined  his  wife  to  be  the  mother 
of  the  promised  seed,  would  vindicate  the  honour  of  his  promise. 
With  regard  to  the  moral  character  of  Abram's  evasion,  Jews 
and  Christians  have  emidated  each  other  in  attempts  to  remove 
every  slur  from  the  "  friend  of  God."  Even  Luther  was  so  much 
under  the  influence  of  this  traditional  prejudice  that  he  supposed 
that  Abram  "  had  conceived  this  purpose  in  the  exercise  of  a  very 
strong  faith,  and  by  inspiration  of  the  Eoly  Spirit"  (Ed.  of  Walch 
i.  p.  1188.)  Hirscli  (in  his  Bel.  Pliil.  of  the  Jews,  p.  486)  has 
suggested  that  a  divorce  had  been  agreed  upon  in  case  the  worst 
should  .happen,  that  thus  all  possibility  of  criminality  had  beea 

o2 


212  ABRAHAM.    (§  52.) 

avoided,  and  that  the  character  of  Abram  appeared  in  this  very 
transaction  in  the  brightest  Hght.  The  same  writer  further  sup- 
poses that,  in  taking  his  wife  from  him,  God  had  subjected  Abram 
to  a  trial  similar  to  that  when  afterwards  He  took  his  son  from  him. 
Calvin,  in  his  Comm.  on  Gen.  xx.  12,  was  the  first  impartially 
to  view  the  transaction,  and  the  majority  of  Eeformed  and 
Lutheran  theologians  have  since  followed  in  his  steps.  Comp. 
for  example  Heidegger  Hist.  Patr.  ii.  p.  149,  Bamhach  Eccl. 
Hist,  of  the  Old  Test.  i.  p.  273.  It  is  no  excuse  under  the  cir- 
cumstances to  say  that  in  some  sense  Sarai  was  really  the  sister 
of  Abram  (being  either  the  daughter  of  Terah  by  another  mother, 
or  what  is  not  improbable,  the  daughter  of  Haran.)  The  defence 
set  up  by  Augustine  (c.  Faust.  22,  3)  :  "  indicavit  sororem,  non 
negavit  uxorem  ;  tacuit  aliquid  veri,  non  dicit  aliquid  falsi"' — 
misses  the  point  in  question.  However,  we  may  conclude  that 
at  that  stage  in  the  history  of  revelation,  the  moral  consciousness 
was  by  no  means  so  clear  and  settled  as  now,  and  hence  we  must 
judge  of  the  conduct  of  Abram  with  charity.  Despite  the  weak- 
ness manifest  in  this  virtual  denial  of  his  wife,  we  may  suppose 
that  Abram's  faith  had  come  out  even  here,  and  that  the  prayer, 
"  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbelief,"  had,  so  to  say,  em- 
bodied itself  in  his  conduct.  Delitzsch  is  right-  in  observing  that 
this  account  is  given  not  to  cast  blame  upon  Abram,  but  to 
reflect  honour  on  Jehovah,  and  Hengstenherg  also  is  warranted 
in  stating  that  the  object  of  the  writer  was  not  to  honour  Abram, 
but  Jehovah. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  name  n^"^Q,  LXX.  ^apaco,  Arab. 
J  .>  o  - 

(^•j^s^j-s,  is  the  common  official  name  of  all  the  Kings  of  Egypt 
in  the  Old  Testament.  Rosellini  and  Lepsius  suppose  that  it  is 
the  ancient  Egyjjtian  word  ^ — PH,  i.e.  the  sun,  used  to  indicate 
the  royal  dignity.  But  Gesenius  Thes.  1129  and  E.  Meier 
(Diet,  of  Roots,  ]).  703)  retain  the  former  derivation  of  the  word 
(Joseph.  Ant.  8,  6,  2)  from  the  Coptic  ovpo  (or  with  the  mascu- 
line article  Trovpo),  i.e.  King.  The  chronology  of  ancient  Egyp- 
tian history  is  so  uncertain  that  it  is  impossible  to  fix  upon  either 
the  dynasty  or  the  place  of  residence  of  this  King  at  the  time  of 
Abram.  13ut  it  is  both  important  and  remarkable  that  we  do 
not  at  this  period  observe  any  trace  of  the  prejudices  entertained 
at  a  later  period  in  Egypt,  when  nomadic  shepherds  were  an 
abomination  to  the  Egyptians.  This  fact  affords  decisive  testi- 
mony in  favour  of  the  antiquity  and  of  the  historical  character 
of  this  narrative. 

(3.)  All  suppositions  as  to  the  kind  of  plagues  which  God 

1  He  pointed  her  out  as  his  sister,  but  did  not  deny  that  sho  was  iiis  wife. 
He  withheld  part  of  the  truth,  but  said  nothing  that  was  false. 


ABRAM  AND  LOT.       MELCHISEDEC.     (§  53.)  213 

sout  upon  Pharaoh  and  his  household  are  entirely  destitute  of 
foundation.  Even  the  analogy  of  Gen.  xx.  vv.  6  and  17  is  un- 
certain, although  it  is  probable  that  the  plagues  were  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  point  to  their  true  cause.  If,  in  accordance  with 
the  religious  \dews  of  antiquity,  Pharaoh  regarded  these  plagues 
as  a  Divine  judgment,  he  or  his  magicians  and  soothsayers  must 
readily  have  traced  them  to  Sarai,  who  had  at  any  rate  been 
violently  and  unjustly  taken  from  the  house  of  Abram.  Under 
the  circumstances  it  would  be  easy  to  learn  the  true  state  of  the 
case,  either  from  Sarai  herself  or  from  the  servants  of  Abram. 
As  Pharaoh  had  destined  Sarai — the  supposed  sister  of  a  nomadic 
chief — to  be  not  merely  his  concubine  but  his  loife  (v.  19),  both 
custom  and  law  demanded  that  sometime  should  elapse  ere  the 
union  could  be  completed — compare  Esther  ii.  v.  12. 

(4.)  Following  the  indication  in  Psalm  cv.  vv.  8  to  15,  Heng- 
stenherg  (Oontrib.  iii.  p.  532)  infers  that  this  fact  shews  that 
"  the  Providence  of  God  watches  over  His  elect,  that  he  delivers 
him  from  difiiculties  into  which  his  own  sin  had  led  him,  and 
from  which  merely  human  wisdom  could  never  have  found  an 
escape.  While  Abram  in  his  carnal  wisdom  does  all  that  lieth 
in  liim  to  annul  the  promise,  God  preserves  it  through  the 
chastity  of  her  who  was  to  become  the  mother  of  the  chosen  race  ; 
and  the  most  powerful  King  of  that  time  has  to  bow  before 
Abram,  who  yet  is  apparently  utterly  helpless  and  defenceless. 
Pharaoh  must  restore  to  the  Patriarch  what  he  had  unjustly 
taken  away."  But  the  circumstance  that  this  took  place  in 
Egyj)t,  the  country  boy'dering  on  the  land  of  promise,  and  wliich 
held  out  the  temptation  of  riches,  of  worldly  culture  and  wisdom, 
thus  forming  a  type  of  the  kingdoms  of  tliis  world  in  their  power 
and  glory,  gives  to  this  event  a  peculiar  imj)ort.  Indeed,  all 
throughout,  Egypt  was  to  the  chosen  race,  as  it  wxre,  like  the  tree 
of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil.  As  in  Abram  we  trace  the 
germ  of  the  later  developments  of  his  posterity,  so  does  his  life 
form  a  tyjoe  of  the  relationship  into  which  his  descendants  stood 
towards  Egyi^t.  The  same  wants  brought  him  and  them  to 
Egy|)t,  the  same  danger  threatens  them,  and  the  same  mighty 
arm  delivers  and  brings  them  back,  enriched  with  the  precious 
things  of  that  country. 


ABRAM  AND  LOT.       MELCHISEDEC. 

§  53.  (Gen.  xiii.) — Abram  returns  to  Canaan  with  his  flocks 
increased,  and  ngain  settles  in  his  former  place  of  residence, 
between  Bethel  and  Ai,  where  once  more  he  formally  W()rshi2:)R 
Jehovah.     Hitherto  Lot  had  accompanied  him  in  nil  his  jonrnies. 


214  ■'  ABUAHAM.     (§  53.) 

But  this  coinnmuion  had  its  origin  in  the  old  develop]  nent,  and 
hence  as  gradually  the  neiv  development  appeared  it  was  to  be 
dissolved,  as  improper  and  contrary  to  the  Di\Tine  intention 
towards  His  elect.  Abram  was  unconscious  of  this  circumstance, 
but  in  the  Providence  of  God  His  purposes  are  realised  by  means 
of  certain  occurrences.  The  pasturage  T^hich  the  Canaanites  had 
left  did  not  afford  sufficient  loom  for  the  flocks  of  A1:)ram  and  of 
Lot.  Disputes  arose  between  their  shepherds,  and  ultimately 
led  to  a  peaceable  separation.  Abram,  who  was  already  accus- 
tomed to  exercise  self-denial,  left  the  choice  to  Lot.  The  latter 
following  the  suggestions  of  his  self-interest,  wliich  as  frequently 
so  here  also  was  made  subservient  to  the  plans  of  God,  chose  the 
neighbourhood  of  Jordan  which  lay  beyond  the  boundaries 
allotted  to  the  seed  of  Abram,  a  country  well  watered  everywhere 
as  the  garden  of  the  Lord.  He  took  up  his  abode  at  Sodom  (1), 
without  being  deterred  by  the  corruption  of  the  place,  which 
already  called  to  heaven  for  vengeance.  Abram,  now  left  alone 
with  his  God,  obtains  again  a  more  fidl  and  definite  promise  (2) 
of  the  laud.  He  journeys  tlu'ough  it  in  the  length  and  in  the 
breadth  of  it,  and  at  last  settles  in  the  plain  of  Mamre  (the 
wood  of  Mamre)  where  he  built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord. 

(1.)  On  the  situation  and  the  natm'al  features  of  the  district 
chosen  by  Lot,  comp.  §  39,  6  and  §  61,  2. 

(2.)  The  PROMISE  of  the  land  to  Abram  and  to  his  seed 
becomes  more  full,  being  assigned  to  him  for  an  eternal  possession 
L^'^V  "IV-     With  reference  to  his  seed  it  is  now  promised  that  it 

shall  become  like  dust  of  the  earth  in  number.     On  the  expres- 
sion Q^ij;  "7^  M.  Baumgarten  remarks:  "  Only  that  is  eternal 
which  rests  upon  an  intrinsic  necessity.     ...     .     .     Hence  the 

^vords  indicate  that  Abram  and  his  seed  should  obtain  possession 
of  the  land  in  \drtue  of  such  a  necessity  on  wliich  implicit  reh- 
ance  could  be  placed.  The  bond  therefore  between  the  people 
and  the  land  of  promise  could  not  be  broken  by  any  power  from 
without."  We  add  that  this  bond  still  continues,  even  though 
Israel  has  been  banished  for  seventy  and  again  for  1800  years 
from  the  land  of  its  inheritance.  As  the  body  is  adapted  and 
destined  for  the  soul  and  the  soul  for  the  body,  so  is  Israel  for 
that  country  and  that  country  for  Israel.  Without  Israel  the  land 
is  lilvc  a  body  from  which  the  soul  has  fled ;  banished  from  its 
country,  Israel  is  like  a  ghost  which  cannot  find  rest. 

(3. )  The  wood  of  Mamre  derived  its  name  from  the  Amorite 


ABRAM  AND  LOT.       MELCHISEDEC.    (§  54.)  215 

princes  of  the  neiglibourlioocl — Vide  chap.  xiv.  13.  Hebron  is 
one  of  the  oldest  cities  of  the  world,  having  been  built  seven 
years  before  Zoan  (Tanis),  tlie  ancient  capital  of  Egyi'jt  (Numb, 
xiii.  23.)  In  Abram's  time  it  also  bore  the  name  of  the  city  of 
Mamre  from  its  possessor  (Gen.  xxiii.  19,  xxxv.  27.)  Aftei- 
wards  when  the  Enalcim  took  the  city,  it  was  called  the  city  of 
Ai'ba,  after  their  prince.  But  the  original  name  of  Hebron  came 
again  into  use  when,  at  the  time  of  Joshua,  the  Israelities  retook 
it  from  tlie  Enakim.  Oomp.  Numb.  xiii.  23  ;  Josh.  xv.  13  and 
14 ;  Kanne  Invest,  i.  p.  102,  &c.  ;  Hdvernick  Introd.  i.  2  p.  306, 
<fec.  ;  Hengstenbety  Contrib.  iii.  p.  187,  &c.  ;  Welte  Post-Mos. 
p.  IGG,  &c.  The  present  name  of  Hebron,  el-Khulil  {i.e.  the 
friend),  was  given  in  honom*  of  Abram,  whom  the  Arabs  call 
"  the  friend  of  God"  a  title  which  he  bears  in  Scripture  also 
(2  Chron.  xx.  7 ;  Isaiah  xli.  8  ;  James  ii.  23.)  For  a  history  of 
the  town  comp.  Robinson  ii.  p}).  73  to  94,  and  Preisioerk  in  the 
"Orient"  for  1840,  p.  33  ;  compare  also  especially  K.  Bitter 
xvi.  1,  pp.  209  to  260.  The  neighbourhood  of  Hebron  presents 
some  of  the  finest  scenery  in  Palestine.  Schubert  (ii.  p.  463) 
observes:  "  The  neighbourhood  of  this  city  resembles  an  exten- 
sive and  fertile  olive-grove ;  the  declivity  of  the  hills  and  tlie 
valley  present  the  richest  verdure  and  gardens  which,  in  the 
direction  of  Jerusalem,  are  intersected  by  beautiful  vineyards." 

§  54.  (Gen.  xiv.  1 — 16.) — Lot  imagined  that  he  had  chosen 
an  excellent  place  of  rtsidence,  but  his  mistake  soon  became 
manifest.  The  kings  of  the  five  cities  in  the  lower  valley  of  the 
Jordan  (Sodom,  Gomorrah,  Admah,  Zeboim,  and  Bela,  which 
is  Zoar)  where  Lot  had  settled,  had  for  twelve  years  been  tribu- 
taries of  Chedorlaomer,  the  powerful  king  of  Elani  (Elymais  in 
the  Persian  Gulf)  In  the  thirteenth  year  they  revolted,  assisted 
by  three  other  (vassal)  kings.  Chedorlaomer  marched  against 
them,  made  an  incursion  into  the  valley  of  Jordan,  everywhere 
carrying  fire  and  stvord,  defeated  the  rebels,  and  took  rich  spoil 
and  many  captives — among  them  Lot  hiniself  One  that  had 
escaped  told  this  to  Aljram,  wlio  immediately  armed  tliree 
Inuidred  and  eighteen  trained  servants  born  in  his  own  house, 
and,  being  joined  by  his  neighbour  Mamre,  and  his  brothers 
Eshcol  and  Aner,  he  followed  the  victorious  army  in  its  march 
northwards,  surprised  it  during  the  night,  smote  it  (2),  pur- 
sued the  fugitives  unto  Damascus,  and  brought  back  all  the  cii})- 
tives,  together  with  imnuMisc  s])()il  (3.) 


216  ABRAHAM.    (§  54.) 

(1.)  For  the  political  motives,  from  the  peculiar  position  of 
the  five  cities,  which  had  induced  Chedoiiaomer  to  war  against 
them,  and  for  geographical  details  of  the  expedition  described  in 
the  text,  compare  the  excellent  paper  of  Tucli  (notes  to  Glen, 
xiv.),  in  the  Journal  of  the  German  Oriental  Society  (vol.  i..  No. 
2,  p.  161,  &c.) 

(2.)  Abram  overtook  the  enemy  near  Dan — not  the  same  as 
the  town  of  Laish  or  Leshem,  which  only  obtained  the  name  of 
Dan  during  the  time  of  the  Judges  (Josh.  xix.  47  ;  Judges  xviii. 
29.)  Probably  it  lay  in  the  north  of  Palestine,  and  was  the  same 
which  in  2  Sam.  xxiv.  6  is  called  Dan  Jaan.  Comp.  Hdvernick 
Introd.  i.  2  p.  310 ;  Hengstenherg  Contrib.  iii.  p.  192,  &c.  ;  and 
Welte  Post-Mos.  p.  166.  Any  objections  as  to  the  improbability 
that  so  small  a  band  could  be  victorious  over  the  army  of  the 
allied  kings  have  been  satisfactorily  answered  by  Schleyer  (Re- 
marks on  the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Test.  p.  285,  &c.)  The  suc- 
cess was  princii)ally  due  to  the  faith  of  Abram,  and  to  the 
assistance  of  God.  At  the  same  time  we  must  not  forget  that 
the  reinforcements  of  his  neighbours  may  probably  have  increased 
the  army  of  Abram  to  a  thousand  men,  while  it  is  erroneous  to 
suppose  that  the  army  of  Chedorlaomer  wliich  was  only  intended 
for  a  foray,  would  be  very  considerable.  Besides,  we  have  to 
keep  in  mind  that  the  enemy  thought  himself  perfectly  secure, 
was  suddenly  overtaken  during  a  dark  night  by  the  army  of 
Abram,  who  evidently  came  upon  them  from  different  directions 
(v.  15) ,  and  that  confusion  and  panic  must  have  ensued.  Abram  s 
host  was  also  swelled  by  many  who  had  escaped  from  the  cities 
of  the  plain,  and,  during  the  contest,  those  who  had  been  led 
away  captives  must  have  joined  their  deliverers. 

(3.)  Ewald  (Hist.  i.  p.  353,  &c.)  speaks  in  enthusiastic  lan- 
guage of  this  account,  and  suj^poses  that  it  constitutes  the  only 
record  handed  down  from  the  time  of  the  Patriarchs  which  bears 
a.  strictly  historical  and  entirely  reliable  character.  "  All  at 
once  we  descry  a  totally  different  mode  ofvieioing  history,  and 
gain  the  most  clear  perception  of  what  had  really  taken  place. 
.  .  .  Nothing  therefore  is  left  us  but  to  be  thankful  for  the 
rare  fortune  by  which  this  unique  piece  has  been  preserved.  For 
if  any  one  were  inclined,  with  this  piece  before  liim,  to  doubt  the 
real  existence  of  Abram  and  Lot,  or  the  liistorical  greatness  of 
the  former,  he  could  scarcely  be  supposed  to  have  commenced 
the  study  of  the  marks  by  wliich  any  really  historical  circum- 
stance can  be  recognised."  Although,  from  the  peculiar  views 
which  have  l)rought  upon  our  author  this  sudden  fit  of  enthu- 
siasm, we  caimot  quite  share  it,  we  are  grateful  for  the  testimony 
which  it  embodies  in  opposition  to  the  critical  absurdities  of  those 
wlio  would  entirely  deny  the  existence  of  Abram,  and  trace  his 


ABRAM  AND  LOT.       MELCHISEDEC.     (§  54.)  217 

name  to  Brama,  and  that  of  Sarai  to  Sarasvati  (Bohlen  Gen.  p. 
195 ;  Hitzig  Ps.  ii.  p.  42 ;  Vatke  Relig.  of  Old  Test.  i.  p.  689 ; 
comp.  against  it  also  E.  Meyer  Diet,  of  Heb.  Roots  p.  282,  &c.) 
Bertheau  i.  p.  216  also  thinks  that  "  the  position  of  tliis  narrative 
in  the  book  of  Genesis,  its  peculiar  contents,  and  the  whole 
character  of  the  account,  shew  that  it  was  a  fragment  from  a 
larger  historical  work  written  for  a  totally  different  purpose  froni 
that  of  the  book  of  Genesis,  and  indicate  a  very  accurate  know- 
ledge of  antiquity."  According  to  Tuch  also,  "  Gen.  xiv.  is 
beyond  doubt  a  very  ancient  document,  of  genuine  historical 
value."  In  opposition  to  such  testmionies  from  his  own  friends, 
the  false  criticism  of  Hitzig  (Ps.  ii.  p.  176),  who  declares  that 
this  account  is  a  pure  invention  intended  to  imitate  the  cam- 
paign of  Sennacherib,  appears  quite  untenable.  This  kind  of 
criticism  may  safely  be  lelt  to  refute  itself  (comp.  also  Bertheau 
p.  217,  note.)  It  is  otherwise  Avith  the  statement  oi  Eioald  and 
Bertheau,  who  tliink  that  the  style  and  mode  of  thinking  in  this 
chapter  is  totally  difi'erent  from  the  plan  and  purposes  pursued 
in  the  book  of  Genesis.  We  admit  that  Genesis  xiv.  embodies 
a  document  which  had  existed  before  the  composition  of  Genesis, 
but  we  also  maintain  that  it  was  inserted  by  the  wiiter  of  Genesis 
because  it  tallied  with  the  purposes  and  the  plan  of  liis  work. 
Wherein,  may  we  ask,  consist  these  elements  which  are  supposed 
to  be  so  different  from  the  plan  of  Genesis  ?  Bertheau  states 
that  the  book  of  Genesis  was  not  intended  to  record  the  martial 
achievements  of  Abram,  and  that  therefore  the  narrative  under 
consideration  was,  by  w;iy  of  exception,  loosely  inserted.  But  it 
is  not  the  case  that  the  narrative  is  either  loose  or  unconnected. 
On  the  contrary  it  presupposes  what  precedes  it  (for  it  is  one 
of  its  purposes  to  shew  that  Lot's  selfish  choice  had  borne  bitter 
fruit),  and  it  is  necessary  in  order  to  explain  what  follows,  for  it 
accounts  for  the  circumstance  that  in  the  following  chapter 
Jehovali  encourages  and  comforts  Abram.  Nor  can  we  admit 
that  this  narrative /orms  an  exception,  as  it  is  quite  possible  that 
this  may  have  been  the  only  martial  achievement  of  Abram. 
Equally  incorrect  is  it  to  suppose  that  the  main  purpose  of  the 
narrative  had  been  to  recall  the  martial  glory  which  Abram  had 
gained,  or  his  disinterested  attachment  to  liis  relatives.  All 
these  were  only  secondary,  not  primary  objects  in  view.  It  is 
indeed  true  that  affection  for  Lot  may  have  been  the  motive,  and 
his  deliverance  from  captixaty  the  object  of  Abram's  expedition. 
But  both  this  and  his  victory  had  a  higher  meaning  when  viewed 
objectively  x\m\  in  their  V)earing  upon  history.  It  is  not  the 
purpose  of  the  narrative  to  exalt  Abram,  but  to  shew  the 
wonderful  leadings  of  God  towards  his  elect,  by  which  every- 
thing is  brought  into  immediate  relation  with  the  Divine  plan. 


218  ABRAHAM.    (§  55.) 

Abram  is  intended  to  become  tlie  possessor  of  the  country  ;  it  is 
therefore  liis  province  to  protect  the  land  or  to  deliver  its  inha- 
bitants from  all  violence  on  the  part  of  enemies,  while  Grod,  who 
has  chosen  him  to  be  the  possessor  of  the  land,  gives  him  the 
victory.  His  success  presents  him  to  the  inhabitants  in  the 
light  of  one  who  brings  protection  and  blessing  on  the  country, 
wliile  in  his  ovni  mind  it  must  have  appeared  as  an  earnest  that 
the  promised  possession  of  the  land  was  as  secure  to  him  as  its 
futm-e  actual  possession,  and  that  he  was  even  already  called  to 
be  its  possessor  and  protector. 

§  55.  (Gen.  xiv.  17.) — On  his  return,  Bera,  king  of  Sodom, 
went  to  meet  Abram  as  far  as  the  Kings'  valley  to  the  north  of 
Salem,  where  the  roads  to  Hebron  and  Sodom  diverge  (1.) 
Melcliisedec,  king  of  Salem,  and  a  priest  of  the  Most  High  God, 
also  came  to  salute  the  victor,  and,  in  his  function  of  priest, 
entertained  him  with  bread  and  wine,  and  blessed  liim  in  the 
name  of  the  Most  High  God,  who  had  given  him  the  victory. 
And  Abram  gave  him  tithes  of  all  the  spoils  he  had  taken  (2.) 
Bera  offered  him  the  goods  re-taken  from  the  enemy  in  reward 
for  his  assistance,  but  Abram  swore  by  the  Most  High  God  that 
he  would  not  take  from  a  thread  to  a  shoe-lachet.  Not  the  king 
of  Sodom,  but  Jehovah  had  called  and  blessed  him,  and  He 
would  also  enrich  him.  At  the  same  time  he  claimed  for  his 
allies  the  portion  wliich  by  right  was  theirs. 

(1.)  Salem  is  the  ancient  name  for  what  afterwards  became 
the  capital  of  the  Jewish  commonwealth.  Jerusalem  (according 
to  Hengstenherg  Ps.  iii.  p.  331  =  Q^ll^  lil'll'')  ^^'^  peaceful 
possession,  while  Hofmann,  Predict,  i.  p.  102,  derives  it  from 
pj-^«i  and  D^";^,  and  interprets  it  as  KTiajxa  elpi)vT)<^,  from  a  com- 
parison of  the  meaning  of  p^-^i  in  Genesis  xxxi.  51,  and  the 
name  '^i^?!"^^,  2  Chron.  xx.  16)  is  either  an  enlargement  of  the 

name  Salem,  or  the  latter  is  an  abbreviated  form  of  Jerusalem. 
Psalm  Ixxvi.  3,  where  Salem  is  certainly  the  same  as  Jerusalem, 
points  to  this  inference,  which  is  borne  out  by  the  later  Jewish 
tradition  in  Onlielos  and  Josephus  (Antiq.  i.  10,  2.)  Another 
confirmation  is  derived  from  the  name  Adonizedec  =  Melcliisedtc 
(Josh.  X.  3),  which  the  Idng  of  the  Jebusites  bore,  as  had  been 
the  custom  of  all  the  rulers  of  that  city.  The  place  also  where 
Abram  met  with  Melchisedec — the  Kings'  valley — points  to  Jeru- 
salem. For,  when  in  2  Sam.  xviii.  18  we  read  that  Absalom 
ei'ectcd  a  monument  for  himself  in  tliat  valley,  we  may  be  pretty 


ABRAM  AND  LOT.       MELCHISEUEC.    (§  55.)  219 

certain  '"  that  this  was  not  in  some  out-of-the-way  comer,  but  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  capital"  {Hengstenherg — comp.  also  Krofff, 
Topogr.  of  Jems.  p.  88;  Josejihus,  Antiq.  7,  10,  3.)     Eaumer 
(Palest,  p.  303)  supposes  that  this  valley  is  the  same  as  that  of 
Jehoshajihat,  lying  to  the  north  of  Jerusalem,  and  traversed  by 
the  brook  Kidron.     Eohinson  (vol.  i.  p.  270)  remarks,  "  Before 
reaching  the  city  and  also  opposite  its  northern  parts,  the  valley 
spreads  out  into  a  basin  of  some  breadth,  which  is  tilled  and 
contains  plantations  of  olive  and  other  fruit  trees."     Tradition 
also  confirms  the  identity  of  the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  and  that  of 
the  king  by  fixing,  although  incorrectly  (comp.  Krafft  1.  c.  p. 
89),  on  a  monument  in  the  valley  as  that  of  Absalom.     We 
cannot  attach  any  weight  to  the  objectioxi  that  Jerusalem  had 
borne  the  name  of  Jehus  before  it  was  taken  by  David  (Judges 
xix.  10.)     The  same  remark  applies  to  this  name  as  to  those  of 
Hebron.     Salem  or  Jerusalem  was  the  original  name,  although 
that  derived  from  its  Canaanitish  possessors  was  also  current,  and 
only  fell  into  desuetude  after  the  time  of  David.    Strictly  speaking 
it  cannot  even  be  proved  that  Jerusalem  ever  bore  the  name  of 
Jebus  (comp.  Hofaiann  1.  c),  as  that  name  (in  Judges  xix.  10, 
comp.  verse  11)  may  have  been  the  designation  of  the  people. 
Besides  if  the  name  Jebus  had  alone  been  in  use  at  a  former 
period,  that  of  Jerusalem  must  have  been  given  by  David.     But 
of  this  there  is  no  trace,  nor  does  it  appear  likely  considering  that 
tins  name  bears  no  reference  to  any  event  which  had  then  taken 
place.     lioscnmilller,   Bleek,   Tuch,  and   Euxdd   suppose   that 
Salem  was  the  same  as  the  place  on  the  other  side  Jordan,  where 
John  baptised   (John  iii.  23.)      This  statement  rests  on  the 
erroneous  opinion  that  on  his  return  from  Damascus  to  Sodom, 
Abram  may  and  indeed  must  have  passed  tlii'ough  this  Salem 
and  not  through  Jerusalem.     But  this  is  utterly  ungrounded, 
and  depends  on  the  hypothesis  that  Abram  had  made  a  consi- 
derable detour  and  passed  by  Sodom  to  Hebron.     But  his  reso- 
lution to  have  nothing  to  do  wdth  the  king  of  Sodom  appears  so 
clearly  that  we  cannot  suppose  he  had  taken  this  route.     On  the 
other  hand  the  way  from  Damascus  to  Hebron  leads  through 
Jerusalem.     Krofff  riglitly  observes,  "  The  king  of  Sodom  passed 
up  through  tlie  modern  Wady  en-Nar,  which  is  a  continuation 
of  tlie  valley  of  Kidron,  and  leads   to  the  Dead  Sea,  while 
Melcliisedec  descended  towards  that  valley  from  his  neighbouring 
mountain  fortress  of  Salem."     Despite  the  confidence  of  Tuch  in 
the  .correctness  of  his  interpretation,  we  take  leave  not  only  to 
doubt,  but  with  ecpial  confidence  to  declare  it  erroneous.     We 
do  not  see  that  Abram  must  liave  passed  down  tlie  Joi-dan  valley 
as  far  as  Sodom  in  order  to  bring  back  the  captives  Avliom  he  had 
rescued.  .  The  text  dogs  not  indicate  that  he  either  did  this,  or 


220  ABRAHAM.    (§  55.) 

that  there  was  any  necessity  for  it.  To  suppose  that  there  was 
a  Salem  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Sechem  is  an  untenable  hypo- 
thesis, derived  from  a  mistranslation  of  Gen.  xxxiii.  18,  where 
Shalem  is  equivalent  to  "  in  good  order"  (comp.  Hengstenherg 
1.  c.  and  §  46,  3.)  The  best  defence  of  the  correct  view  on  this 
subject  is  furnished  by  J.  I).  Michaelis,  Ty})ical  Theol.  Preface 
pp.  14  to  72  ;  Tiele,  ad  h.  I.  ;  Hofincmn,  1.  c.  ;  Hengstenherg,  1.  c.  ; 
W.  Kraft,  Topogr.  of  Jerus.,  Bonn  1847,  p.  87,  &c.  We  will 
immediately  shew  that  it  is  of  great  importance  for  our  history 
that  Salem  was  Jerusalem. 

(2.)  The  question  as  to  the  import  and  the  perso7i  of  Mel- 
CHiSEDEC,  who  is  so  suddenly  introduced  to  our  notice,  and  the 
typical  interpretation  of  his  history  in  Psalm  ex.  4,  but  especially 
in  Hebrews  vii.  ("  Without  father,  without  mother,  without 
pedigree,  having  neither  beginning  of  days  nor  end  of  life ;  but 
made  like  unto  the  Son  of  God"),  has  led  to  the  most  curious 
interpretations  (comp.  Heidegger  Hist.  Patr.  ii.  p.  38,  &c., 
Deyling  Observ.  ss.  ii.  p.  71,  &c.)  Most  of  the  Babhins  took 
him  for  Shem,  Jurieu  for  Ham,  Hidsius  for  Enoch,  Crigen  for 
an  angel,  Kloppenhurg  for  a  man,  purposely  and  immediately 
created  by  God,  Ambrosius,  Chinaeus,  Hottinger  for  Clirist  Him- 
self, and  the  sect  of  the  Melchisedecites  for  the  Holy  Spirit 
(Walch  History  of  Hersies  i.  p.  556),  while  Josephus  supposes 
that  he  was  an  ordinary  Canaanitish  king.  But  if  we  bear  in 
mind  that  in  all  probability  the  original  inhabitants  of  Pales- 
tine had  been  descendants  of  Shem  (through  the  race  of  Lud), 
who  were  driven  back  or  absorbed  at  a  later  period  by  the 
Canaanites,  and  if  we  farther  consider  the  peculiar  position  of 
Melchisedec  among  the  later  possessors  of  Canaan,  we  shall  pro- 
bably infer  that  he  was  of  Shemitic  and  not  of  Canaanitish  origin, 
and  more  particularly  that  he  was  the  last  independent  repre- 
sentative of  the  original  Shemitic  population,  which  had  ab'eady 
been  vanquished  by  the  Canaanites.  This  view  tallies,  at  least, 
better  with  the  blessing  of  Noah,  recorded  in  Gen.  ix.  25,  <fec., 
while  it  sheds  a  new  light  upon  the  narrative  of  the  text.  For 
tlie  most  fall  explanation  of  the  whole  circumstances,  we  refer  to 
Hofmann  1.  c.  i.  p.  101,  &c.  Abram,  the  elect  of  Jehovah,  and 
to  whom  so  many  and  so  comprehensive  promises  had  been  made, 
is  blessed  by  Melchisedec,  and  gives  tithes  to  him.  This  sub- 
ordination is  the  more  striking  as  Abram  was  conscious  of  his 
high  calling,  and  immediately  afterwards  took  care  to  vindicate 
before  the  king  of  Sodom  the  dignity  and  honom-  of  his  position. 
Hence  Melchisedec  must  have  stood — at  least  relatively — higher 
than  Abram,  and  the  latter  must  have  known  and  recognised 
this  circumstance  as  distinctly  as  he  did  his  own  superiority  over 
the  king  of  Sodom.     We  say  with  Hofmann,  "  the  greatness  of 


ABRAM  AND  LOT.       M.SLCHISEDEC.    (§  55.)  221 

Abrani  consisted  in  his  hopes,  that  of  Melchisedec  in  his  present 
possession."  Melchisedec  has  at  the  time  what  Abram  yet  wants 
and  what  is  only  promised  to  him  as  still  future,  and  he  bows 
before  this  exalted  personage  who  meets  him,  perhaps  quite  im- 
expectedly,  and  whose  existence  may  have  been  quite  unknown 
to  him.  Melchisedec  is  a  priest  of  the  living  God  whom  Abram 
served,  wliile  the  Patriarch  is  as  yet  only  a  'pro'pliet^  the  medium 
of  that  "  which  Jehovah  is  to  bring  about."  To  Melchisedec 
God  has  manifested  Himself  as  the  God  of  the  present,  the 
possessor  of  heaven  and  earth,  as  the  Most  High  ;  to  Abram  as 
the  God  of  the  future,  who  promises  salvation,  and  as  Jehovah. 
Melcliisedec  is  recognised  as  the  possessor  and  Idng  of  the  country 
which  is  indeed  promised  to  Abram,  but  of  wliich  as  yet  he  does 
not  possess  any  part.  True,  the  future  will,  when  unfolded,  be 
much  more  glorious  than  the  present,  and  Abram  would,  in  a 
much  higher  and  more  perfect  degree,  become  in  his  seed  what 
ilelchisedec  was  at  that  time.  But  the  jjossession,  although  it 
Ije  smaller,  imparts  for  the  time  being  a  higher  character  than 
the  prospect  of  greater  privileges  to  come.  All  this  Abram  and, 
as  it  seems,  Melchisedec  also  recognised.  Hence  Melchisedec 
owns  in  appropriate  manner  the  future  by  blessing  Abram,  while 
Abram  recognises  the  present  in  giving  titlies  to  Melchisedec. 
Melchisedec  is  the  last  remaining  blossom  of  a  past  development ; 
Abram  is  the  germ  and  commencement  of  a  new  development, 
fraught  with  blessing  and  with  hope.  Melcliisedec  is  still  witliiii 
the  old  Noacliic  covenant,  which  rested  on  a  universal,  Abram 
is  within  the  new  covenant,  which  rests  on  a  particularistic  basis 
— and  even  in  this  respect  the  position  of  Melcliisedec  is  more 
exalted.  But  this  universalistic  covenant  terminated  in  one  in- 
dividual, just  as  Melcliisedec  stands  alone  among  a  degenerate  race 
which  had  apostatized  from  God  and  adored  the  powers  of 
nature.  He  is  the  only  remaining  servant  and  worshipper  of  the 
God  who  liad  entered  into  covenant  with  Noah.  On  the  other 
hand  the  ])articularistic  covenant  which  commences  with  Abram 
is  to  enlarge  into  the  fullest  and  most  comprehensive  universaHsm, 
destined  to  bring  salvation  to  all  nations — and  in  this  respect 
the  position  of  Abrani  is  higher.  Viewed  from  this  point  all 
that  might  seem  strange,  as  also  the  ty|)ical  bearing  of  this 
narrative,  as  explained  in  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  is  vindicated 
and  accounted  for.  Melchisedec  is  the  highest  and  the  last 
representative  of  the  Noachic  covenant ;  he  is  a  tjqie  of  Christ, 
the  highest  and  last  representative  of  the  Al)rahamic  covenant. 
Melchisedec  unites  in  his  person  the  royal  and  the  priestly  offices. 
Abrani  does  not  possess  as  yet  either  of  these  dignities,  but  both 
are  promised  to  him  ;  he  or  liis  seed  after  him  is  to  become  a 
Melchisedec  only  in  much  higher  degree.      In  Aaron  Abram 


222  ABRAHAM.    (§  55.) 

attains  one  part  of  the  position  of  Melchisedec ;  in  David  the 
other.  But  as  yet  the  two  are  separated,  nor  have  they  so  far 
matured  as  to  be  capable  of  being  combined.  Hence  in  Abram 
both  Aaron  and  David  bow  before  Melchisedec.  But  in  Christ 
Aaron  and  David  are  united.  Hence  Christ  is,  like  Melchisedec, 
higher  than  Aaron  or  David.  But  He  is  also  infinitely  higher 
than  Melchisedec,  as  the  latter  closes  the  old  and  past  develop- 
ment while  the  former  crowns  and  completes  the  new  and  ever- 
lasting development.  Melchisedec  is  only  a  shadow  and  a  ij^Q, 
Christ  is  the  reality  and  the  antitype.  We  enter  into  some 
farther  particulars :  The  name  Melchisedec  implies  that  he  is 
king  of  righteousness — his  residence,  that  he  is  prince  in  the 
citadel  of  peace.  Both  united  point  him  out  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  that  kingdom  where  justice  and  peace  kiss  each 
other  (Ps.  Ixxxv.  11.)  Under  any  other  circumstances  this 
might  be  considered  as  merely  an  accidental  concurrence ;  in 
sacred  history  it  is  full  of  meaning  (Heb.  vii.  2.)  The  text  does 
not  mention  his  father  nor  his  mother,  the  day  of  his  birth  nor 
that  of  liis  death.  It  is  certainly  characteristic  and  striking  that 
although  in  the  book  of  Genesis  so  much  care  and  attention  is 
bestowed  on  genealogical  tables,  the  pedigree  of  a  person  so 
exalted  that  even  the  honoured  ancestor  of  the  chosen  race  bowed 
before  him,  should  not  be  at  all  mentioned.  However,  it  may 
be  possible  to  account  for  this  silence  by  supposed  ignorance  on 
the  part  of  the  writer,  we  know  that  a  liigher  power  watched 
over  the  sacred  penmen.  In  supreme  wisdom  He  opened  to,  or 
shut  from,  them  the  sources  of  historical  investigation.  Hence 
any  such  omission  in  their  narratives  gains  special  importance. 
With  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews  (chap.  vii.  3)  we  may  infer 
that,  from  this  point  of  view,  the  silence  of  the  text  indicates  that 
the  position  and  dignity  of  Melchisedec  did  not  merely  dejjend 
upon  his  natural  descent,  and  that  this  typified  the  idea  that  the 
office  of  the  perfect  royal  priest  should  derive  its  authority  and 
its  warrant  not  merely  from  human  descent.  Besides  Jerusalem, 
the  royal  city  Kar  i^oj(^i]v,  is  the  residence  of  Melchisedec. 
Jerusalem  is  queen  among  the  cities  (Ezekiel  v.  5),  as  Palestine 
among  countries.  It  was  such  by  nature  and  situation  (as  we 
shaU  by  and  by  show),  nor  did  it  attain  its  rank  either  through 
David  or  even  through  Christ.  Abram  is  to  become  Melchisedec. 
In  David  the  royal  dignity  is  attained,  and  hence  the  city  of 
Melchisedec  becomes  that  of  David.  We  agree  with  Hofmann 
that  the  bread  and  wine  wliich  Melchisedec  brought  to  Abram 
were  not  merely  meant  for  refreshment.  The  statement  wliich 
immediately  follows,  "  And  he  was  a  priest  of  the  Most  High 
God,"  indicates  that  some  priestly  service  was  implied.  In  this 
case,  as  throughout  antiquity  and  especially  in  the  Mosaic  service 


ABRAM  AND  LOT.       MELCHISEDEC.    (§  55.)  223 

bread  and  wine  symbolised,  as  the  best  fruits  of  the  land,  nourish- 
ment generally.  The  fact  that  Abram  received  these  gifts  from 
the  hand  of  the  priest  indicated  that  God,  whose  mediator  the 
priest  was,  would  refresh  him  after  every  contest,  and  bestow  on 
him  the  best  fruits  of  the  promised  land.  Symbolically,  the 
bringing  of  bread  and  wine  serves  the  same  purpose  as  the 
blessing  of  Melchisedec.  By  that  blessing  Abram  is  set  apart 
for  his  career ;  it  is  the  blessing  of  an  old  man  who  has  finished 
his  work  bestowed  upon  a  youth  who  stands  at  the  commence- 
ment of  an  indefinite  development.  With  this  blessing  Mel- 
chisedec disappears  from  the  stage.  Abram  gives  tithes  to  this 
royal  priest,  not  of  his  o-wti  goods,  far  less  of  those  which  he  had 
again  rescued,  but  from  the  spoils  which  he  has  taken  from  the 
enemy.  He  knows  that  God  has  given  him  the  victory,  and  he 
acknowledges  it  by  oftering  unto  the  Most  High  God,  through  the 
priest,  a  tithe  of  its  fruits.  Melchisedec  has  often,  but  very  im- 
jDroperly,  been  compared  to  king  Anius,  of  whom  Virgil  writes 
(Aen.  iii.  80)  :  "  Rex  Anius,  rex  idem  hominum  Phoebique 
sacerdos." 

On  this  subject  compare  the  appropriate  remarks  of  Creuzer 
(Symbol.,  1st  edit.,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  405  to  408.) 

To  this  view  of  the  liistory  of  Melchisedec  A.  Hahn  has 
objected  in  Reuters  Repert.  for  1849,  Sept.  p.  208  He  says : 
"  We  cannot  persuade  ourselves  that  the  record  implies  either 
that  Melchisedec  had  blessed,  or  that  Abram  was  blessed.  To 
our  mind  this  view  depends  on  the  ungroimded  supposition  that 
the  subject  in  verse  20  is  Abram  and  not  Melchisedec ;  but  it  is 
difficidt  to  perceive,  considering  that  the  other  is  the  most 
natural  interpretation,  why  it  should  be  set  aside.  Indeed  it  is 
impossible  that  Abram  should  be  the  subject  of  that  sentence. 
We  do  not  read  that  Abram  had,  on  this  expedition,  got  any 
prey,  and  the  general  expression  '  of  all'  scarcely  allows  any  such 
supposition.  But  everything  becomes  plain  if  Melchisedec,  as 
Gentile  royal  priest,  gives  tithes  of  all  to  Abram  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  superiority.  In  that  case  the  expression  defines 
more  clearly  the  words  in  v.  18,  '  he  brought  bread  and  wine.'" 
But  V.  19  clearly  shews  the  correctness  of  our  interpretation.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  appeal  to  it.  The  context  places  it  beyond 
doubt  that  the  subject  is  changed  in  v.  20.  The  idea  of  "  tithes" 
is  so  closely  connected  with  that  of  a  priest  that  the  wrr  :^r  could 
not  anticipate  any  misunderstanding.  Melchisedec  was  a  priest, 
Abram  was  not.  When  therefore  the  writer  says,  "  He  gave 
tithes  to  him,"  his  readers  could  not  doubt  that  Abram  gave  and 
Melchisedec  received  them.  The  addition  "  of  all"  comprises 
everytliing  of  which  A1)ram  could  dispose  at  the  time,  nor  could 
this  be  aught  else  than  the  prey  taken  from  the  enemy.  j 


224  ABRAHAM.    (§  5(j.) 


THE  OFFERING  OF  A  COVENANT-SACRIFICE  FORMS  THE  FIRST  STAGE 
OF  THE  COVENANT. 

§  56.  (Gen.  xv.) — The  victory  which,  by  the  blessing  of  Grod, 
Abram  had  gained  over  Chedorlaomer  had  raised  him  above  the 
sphere  of  his  natural  strength,  and  this  elevation  had  been  farther 
increased  by  his  meeting  with  IMelcliisedec.  It  was  natural  that 
this  tension  should  give  way  when  he  retm'ned  to  liis  ordinary 
avocations.  The  higher  he  had  been  raised  above  his  ordinary 
feelings,  the  more  decided  was  the  reaction,  and  the  fear  and  dis- 
trust wliich  accompanied  it.  Humanly  speaking  his  expedition 
against  the  powerful  king  of  the  East  had  been  a  dangerous 
undertaking.  It  was  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  vengeance 
of  this  powerful  conqueror  would  overtake  him.  When  over- 
whelmed with  such  fears  Jehovah  came  to  Abram  in  a  vision  (1), 
saying :  "  Fear  not,  Abram,  I  am  thy  shield  and  exceeding  gTcat 
reward."  But  frequently  when  we  give  place  to  fear  everything 
appears  dark,  because  our  \dsion  has  gi'own  dim,  and  fears  and 
doubts  increase  continually.  Thus  Abram  also  now  not  only 
felt  apprehension  on  account  of  the  vengeance  of  Chedorlaomer, 
but  also  doubts  with  reference  to  his  own  relation  to  the  promised 
future.  All  this  filled  his  heart  with  sadness.  Encom'aged  by 
the  words  of  Jehovah,  he  pom'S  out  his  cares  before  Him. 
"  Jehovah  Adonai" — he  asks — "  what  wilt  Thou  give  me,  seeing  I 
go  childless,  and  the  steward  of  my  house  is  this  Eliezer  of 
Damascus"  (2.)  But  Jehovah  rephes,  in  distinct  and  unmis- 
takeable  terms,  "  Tliis  shall  not  be  thine  lieii- ;  but  he  that  shall 
come  forth  out  of  thine  own  bowels  shall  be  thine  heir  !"  And 
He  brought  him  forth  abroad :  "  Look  now  toward  heaven  and 
tell  the  stars.  Ai't  thou  able  to  niunber  them  ?  So  shaU  thy 
seed  be."  Then  Abram  believed  Jehovah,  and  He  counted  it  to 
him  for  righteousness  (3.)  This  faith  requu'ed  a  sign  in  order 
to  attain  assm-ance,  so  that  if  at  any  futm-e  period  he  should  be 
assailed  by  similar  doubts  and  fears  he  might  have  this  pledge 
to  strengthen  and  to  comfort  him.  And  on  this  basis  Jehovah 
now  actually  enters  into  covenant  (4),  by  a  covenant-sacrifice 
which  Abram  prepares  and  ojEfers  (5.)  Birds  of  prey  come  down 
upon  the  carcases,  but  Abram  drives  them  away.     Meantime  the 


FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  COVENANT.    (§  56.)  225 

Sim  lias  gone  down.  Abram,  grieved  about  this  omen  wliieli 
seemed  to  endanger  the  ratification  of  the  covenant,  fell  into  a 
deep  sleejj,  and  horror  and  great  darkness  came  upon  him.  That 
omen,  and  the  reason  why  he  is  not  immediately  to  obtain  pos- 
session of  the  land  of  promise,  are  now  explained  to  him.  The 
iniquity  of  the  Amorites  is  not  yet  fidl,  and  only  the  seed  of 
Abram  would  obtain  possession  of  the  land.  But  like  Abram 
himself,  Ms  seed  also  must  pass  through  trials  and  sorrows- 
Four  hundred  years  shall  they  be  strangers  in  a  land  that  is  not 
theirs,  be  obliged  to  serve  and  be  afflicted.  But  Jehovah  will 
also  judge  that  nation  whom  they  shall  serve,  and  afterwards 
shall  they  come  out  with  great  substance  ((i.)  And  when  night 
had  gathered  around,  the  glory  of  the  Lord  appeared  in  the 
symbol  oi  Sb  pillar  of  smoke  and  of  fire,  that  passed  between  the 
pieces  of  the  sacrifice,  and,  as  it  were,  sanctioned  and  ratified  the 
covenant  on  the  part  of  God  (7.)  Finally,  Jehovah  repeats  the 
promise  "  to  thy  seed  will  I  give  this  land,"  and  enlarges  it  by 
giving  a  prophetic  delineation  of  its  houndaries  (8.) 

(1.)  Interpreters  are  not  agreed  whether  all  the  events  here 
recorded  took  place  in  vision,  or  whether  and  at  what  exact  point 
the  ecstatic  vision  gave  place  to  ordinary  perception.  Baum- 
garten  thinks  that  the  transition  is  marked  in  verse  5 ;  others 
that  it  is  only  in  verses  8  and  9.  In  our  opinion,  considering 
the  external  and  internal  connection  of  these  events,  the  whole 
took  place  in  vision,  so  that  the  description  in  v.  1  applies  to  the 
whole  chapter.  It  is  objected  that  the  choice  of  the  sacrifices, 
the  killing  and  dividing  them,  wliich  were  purely  external  events, 
imphed  a  cessation  of  the  ecstatic  state.  But  this  objection  rests 
upon  a  misunderstanding  of  that  state,  or  rather  upon  confound- 
ing it  with  a.  merely  natural,  or  morl)id,  or  magnetic  ecstasis. 
Genuine  prophetic  vision  is  neither  mesmerism  nor  a  morbid 
magnetic  phenomenon,  which  excludes  full  use  of  the  senses,  or 
renders  external  activity  impossible.  The  inward  sense  is  not 
raised  by  depressing  the  outward  senses  ;  for,  when  what  is  Divine 
affects  human  nature,  the  natiu'al  harmony  is  not  disturbed,  but 
elevated  and  i)roperly  adjusted.  Interpreters  are  also  divided  as 
to  the  time  when  these  events  took  place.  Baumgarten,  laying 
stress  on  verse  5,  thinks  that  the  vision  took  place  during  the 
night.  Hengstenberg  (Balaam  p.  51)  appeals  to  v.  12,  and 
infers  that  it  had  taken  place  during  the  day.  The  former  sup- 
poses i,hat  the  events  had  lasted  from  one  night  to  the  other, 

VOL.  I.  p 


22G  ABRAHAM.    (§  56.) 

while  the  latter  thinks  that  stars  may  in  vision  have  been  seen 
during  the  day  also.  But  if  we  remember  that  prophetic  ecstasis 
was  not  a  morbid  and  unnatural,  but  a  healthy  though  super- 
natm-al  state,  which  did  not  unfit  a  man  for  ordinary  life,  wq 
cannot  be  startled  by  finding  that  it  lasted  between  twelve  and 
eighteen  hours.  At  the  same  tune  it  seems  to  us  inappropriate 
to  suppose  that  he  should  have  seen  the  stars  during  day-Ught, 
as  there  is  no  reason  why  that  wliich  was  object  of  external  vision 
should  have  been  transferred  into  the  sphere  of  inward  vision. 

(2.)  It  is  foreign  to  our  purpose  to  enter  on  the  exegetical 
difficulties  of  these  words.  Separated  from  all  his  relatives,  and 
childless  in  his  old  age,  having  for  ten  years  waited  in  vain  for 
the  promised  seed,  Abram  is  no  longer  able  to  look  with  confi- 
dence on  the  promise.  Present  fears  darken  his  prospect,  and 
he  thinks  that  notliing  is  left  save  that  his  steward  Eliezer 
(generally  supposed  to  have  been  the  servant,  chap.  xxiv.  2,  who 
possessed  the  implicit  confidence  of  Abram)  should  become  his 
heir.  Perhaps  he  even  meditated  adopting  him,  and  thus  trans- 
ferring to  him  his  own  rights  and  hopes. 

(3.)  He  who,  in  the  exercise  of  his  free  will,  comes  up  to  the 
Divine  idea,  and  to  the  purpose  of  his  existence,  is  righteous. 
By  the  fall  man  lost  this  righteousness,  or  rather  the  capacity  for 
attaining  it.  But  as  salvation  is  impossible  without  righteous- 
ness, and  as  in  the  eternal  counsel  of  His  grace  God  has  resolved 
to  save  man.  He  must  Himself  restore  righteousness  to  man. 
This  then  is  the  object  of  the  plan  of  salvation.  In  room  of  the  idea 
laid  down  by  God  in  creation,  that  embodied  by  Him  in  the  plan 
for  restoring  and  saving  man  becomes  the  rule  and  testing  point  for 
hmnan  freedom.  Just  as  according  to  the  original  arrangement 
he  would  have  been  just  who  had  come  up  to  the  requirements 
of  the  Divine  idea  expressed  in  creation,  so  now  is  he  righteous 
who  submits  to  the  conditions  of  the  plan  of  salvation.  But  the 
idea  embodied  in  this  deliverance  is  not  that  man  should,  in  the 
exercise  of  his  freedom,  justify  himself,  but  that  this  freedom 
should  not  operate  as  an  obstacle  to  the  righteousness  of  God, 
and  that  man  shoidd  fall  in  with  the  salvation  offered  to  him, 
in  as  far  as  it  became  manifest  in  each  successive  stage  of 
development.  Thus,  then,  a  new  way  has  been  opened  in  wliich 
to  obtain  righteousness,  that  oi  faith,  i.e.  of  a  free,  full,  and  un- 
conditional surrender  of  one's-self  to  the  idea  embodied  in  the 
Divine  plan  of  salvation.  This  faith  does  not  indeed  work  out 
salvation,  but  it  is  the  condition  under  which  salvation  becomes 
ours.  Abram  believed,  i.e.  he  wholly  surrendered  himself  to  the 
Divine  promise,  under  which  at  that  stage  of  development,  sal- 
vation appeared,  and  thus  he  became  just.  But  as  his  faith  takes 
hold  of  tlie  salvation  objectively  proferred,  his  justitia  formalis 


FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  COVENANT.    (§  4G.)  227 

hecomes  Justitia  materialis,  i.e.  Ms  faith  is  accounted  to  him  for 
righteousness.  And  because  Abram  was  the  first  in  Avhom  this 
indispensable  relation  to  the  idea  of  salvation  clearly  and  de- 
cidedly pervaded  the  consciousness,  because  in  Ids  faith  and  as  a 
witness  to  all  generations  lie  fully  represented  this  relationship, 
he  became  the  father  of  the  faithful. 

(4.)  We  read  here  for  the  first  time  of  a  covenant  into  which 
(lod  is  about  to  enter  with  Abram.  All  that  had  preceded,  all 
the  demands,  promises,  and  leadings  on  the  part  of  God,  and  all 
the  obedience,  faith,  self-renunciation,  and  self-reliance  on  the 
part  of  Abram,  were  only  preliminary  steps.  But  even  the 
covenant  noto  made  is  only  partial,  and  requires  completion,  on 
which  ground  we  have  designated  it  as  the  first  stage  of  the 
covenant.  It  is  only  partial,  inasmuch  as  God  only,  and  not 
Abram  also,  enters  into  and  binds  Himself  by  it.  For  only  God 
and  not  Abram  passed  between  the  pieces  of  the  sacrifice.  This 
view  perfectly  tallies  with  the  account  here  given.  The  motive 
from  which  the  covenant  was  made  was  the  fear  and  unbelief  of 
Abram.  By  formally  and  solemnly  entering  into  covenant,  God 
gives  him  a  pledge  that  His  promise  might  be  implicitly  rehed 
on,  and  at  the  same  time  a  token  to  support  his  faith.  For  these 
purposes  it  is  quite  sufficient  that  God  alone  ratifies  the  cove- 
nant, nor  does  He  yet  require  Abram  solenmly  to  imdertake  the 
covenant  obligations  devolving  on  him.  It  is  only  afterwards, 
when,  on  the  ground  of  the  engagement  which  God  had  m  tliis 
covenant  undertaken,  the  faith  of  Abram  had  become  strong,  and 
when  the  birth  of  the  promised  seed  was  nigh  at  hand,  that 
gi\ang  and  asking,  on  the  part  of  God,  go  hand  in  hand,  and 
that  He  calls  upon  the  patriarch  to  ratify  the  covenant  by  solemnly 
undertaking  its  obligations.  This  takes  place  in  the  covenant  of 
circumcision  (chaj).  xvii.)  Hence  these  two  events  condition 
and  supi)lement  eacli  other. 

(5.)  The  covenant  is  made  by  sacrifice.  For  God  is  holy, 
and  nothing  unholy  can  stand  before  him.  Hence  He  can  only 
enter  into  covenant  with  man  when  sin,  which  had  sejoarated 
between  God  and  man,  has  been  removed.  True,  Abram's  faith 
lias  been  accounted  to  him  for  righteousness,  but  this  righteous- 
ness is  only  the  form  for  the  jiistitia  materialis,  which  was  to  be 
provided  by  the  Divine  plan  of  salvation.  During  the  period 
when  salvation  is  only  preparing,  the  latter  is  concentrated  in  the 
sacrifice.  By  the  atonement  of  animal  sacrifice  the  sinner  obtains 
through  faith  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins.  The  distinguishing 
peculiarity  of  the  sacrifice  of  Abram,  which  constituted  it  a  suit- 
able basis  for  the  covenant,  lay  in  the  selection  of  certain  animals, 
and  in  the  division  of  these  sacrifices  into  two  portions,  through 
tlie  midst  of  which  the  parties  to  tlie  covenant  were  to  pass, 

p2 


228  ABRAHAM.    (§  56.) 

thereby  solemnly  ratifying  their  union  in  the  covenant.  Commonly 
this  circumstance  is  interpreted  as  implying  that  what  had  been 
done  in  the  sacrifices  which  were  di\^ded  should  happen  to  the 
party  who  would  break  the  covenant  (comp.  Winer  Real.  Enc.  Art. 
Covenant.)  Tiele  asserts  that  such  a  transaction  were  unworthy 
of  God,  and,  in  his  fictitious  zeal  for  the  honour  of  God,  despite 
the  explicit  statement  in  v.  18,  maintains  that  the  whole  narra- 
tive has  no  connection  with  the  covenant.  But  even  supposing 
that  the  assertion  were  correct  in  itself,  such  an  accommodation 
to  human  customs  on  the  part  of  God  is  no  more  contrary  to  the 
Divine  character  than  is  the  circumstance  that  He  condescends 
to  enter  into  covenant  with  man  at  all,  and  by  an  oath  under- 
takes certain  covenant-engagements.  But  we  go  farther,  and 
hold  that  the  above  view  is  not  (as  is  asserted)  corroborated  by 
Jeremiah  xxxiv.  1 8  to  20,  and  that  it  does  not  correctly  explain 
tlie  meaning  of  this  symbolical  transaction.  It  was  first  pro- 
pounded at  a  later  j)eriod,  when  the  understanchng  of  symbols 
was  no  longer  clear  and  reliable.  It  wiU  be  noticed  that  this 
view  militates  against  the  institution  of  sacrifices,  as  in  that  case 
the  killing  and  tlie  shedding  of  blood  would  not  represent  the 
atonement,  on  the  basis  of  which  the  covenant  was  to  be  made, 
but  only  and  exclusively  an  idea  wholly  foreign  to  that  of  sacri- 
fices. Indeed  if  it  were  correct  we  should  no  longer  feel  war- 
ranted in  employing  the  term  sacrifice  at  all.  But  it  is  mani- 
festly the  purpose  of  tliis  symbol  to  express,  along  with  the  sepa- 
rate existence  of  the  two  who  had  entered  into  covenant,  the 
unity  laid  down  in  the  covenant.  This  circumstance  both 
Klaiher  (Doctr.  of  Reconciliation,  Tubing.  1828,  p.  81)  and  31. 
Bcmmgarten  (ad.  h.  1.)  have  perceived  and  expressed.  The  divi- 
sion of  the  sacrifices  into  two  portions  represents  the  two  parties 
to  the  covenant.  As  these  portions  constitute  in  reality  only  one 
animal,  so  are  the  two  parties  to  the  covenant  joined  into  one. 
The  passing  through  the  portions  of  the  sacrifice  represents,  as 
it  were,  the  means  by  which  they  who  had  been  separated  were 
to  be  united.  In  the  selection  of  the  sacrifices,  the  command- 
ment of  Jehovah  that,  of  course  excepting  the  doves,  aU  should  be 
three  years  old,  appears  striking.  The  view  of  Hofmann  (i.  p. 
98)  :  "  the  animals  must  have  been  three  years  old,  and  Jehovah 
accepted  them  when  in  theiT  fourth  year,  because  the  seed  of 
Abram  was  only  to  enter  the  land  of  promise  in  their  fourth 
generation,  v.  16"  (which  is  also  adopted  by  DelitzschJ,  is  more 
tatisfactory  than  that  of  Baumgarten,  who  thinks  that  it  refers 
to  the  part  God  had  in  the  sacrifice.  But  God  took  no  part  in 
the  sacrifice,  as  the  sacrifice  about  to  be  ofiered  represented  the 
sinning  party  only.  He  tahes  part  in  it  after  the  sacrifice  has 
been  offered  to  liim.     On  the  other  hand  we  can  readilv  under- 


UAGAR  AND  ISHMAEL.    (§  56,  57.)  229 

stand  that  the  age  of  the  animal  should  have  borne  reference  to 
a  particular  generation  of  the  descendants  of  ALram,  as  the 
sacrifice  represented  Abram,  and  no  doubt  his  seed  also. 

(6.)  On  the  four  hundred  years  of  ser\dtude,  conip.  vol.  ii. 

(7.)  For  the  first  time  the  glory  of  the  Lord  (the  She- 
chinah)  appears  in  a  symbol  similar  to  that  which  was  afterwards 
seen  by  Moses  in  the  burning  bush,  by  the  Israelites  during 
their  passage  through  the  wilderness  in  the  pillar  of  cloud  and 
of  fire,  and  in  the  tabernacle  in  the  cloud  above  the  mercy-seat. 
As  at  a  later  period  it  was  liid  by  the  bush  and  by  the  cloud,  so 
here  it  appears  enveloped  in  a  furnace  (of  the  land,  more  common 
in  the  East,  shaped  like  a  cylinder,  at  the  upper  opening  of  which 
fire,  enveloped  by  smoke,  bursts  forth.)  It  is  the  symbol  of  the 
gracious  presence  of  Grod.  The  splendour  of  His  glory,  the  de- 
vouring fire  of  His  holiness,  which  the  eye  of  man  cannot  bear, 
and  before  which  the  sinner  cannot  stand,  is  in  grace  enveloped. 

Delitzsch  ohsevyes, :  "  Conunonly  in  His  intercom'se  with  the 
patriarchs,  Jehovah  manifested  Himself  in  a  form  much  more 
condescending.  But  on  tliis  occasion,  He,  once  for  all,  shows  to 
Abram  how  infinitely  elevated  and  fearfully  majestic  was  that 
God  who  ordinarily  condescended  so  much  to  liim." 

(8.)  On  the  prophetic  determination  of  the  boundaries  of 
the  land  of  promise,  comp.  Hengstenberg,  Contrib.  iii.,  p.  265,  &c. 
The  river  of  Egyiit,  which  forms  the  boundary  on  the  one  side, 
is  certainly  the  Nile  (and  not  the  rivulet  El-Arish.)  It  is  equally 
true  that  even  during  the  most  flourishing  period  df  the  Theo- 
cracy, the  boundaries  of  the  country  never  extended  from  the 
Euphrates  to  the  Nile.  But  then  it  is  not  and  cannot  be  the 
object  of  this  prophetic  promise  to  furnish  data  meant  to  be 
geographically  exact.  As  in  many  other  places,  the  Eupluates 
and  the  Nile  are  here  considered  as  the  representatives  of  the 
two  great  powers  of  the  East  and  of  the  West ;  fuid  the  meaning 
of  the  promise  is,  that  the  land  and  the  commonwealth  of  the 
descendants  of  Abram  should  be  independent,  and  continue  by 
the  side  of,  and  between,  these  two  empires,  and  that  no  other 
empire  or  nation  shoidd  permanently  bear  independent  sway  in 
the  districts  which  lay  between  Judasa  and  these  two  great  em- 
pires. 


HAGAR  AND  ISHMAEL. 

§  57.  (Gen.  xvi.) — Abram  is  now  aware  that  the  promised 
seed  is  to  be  the  fruit  of  his  o"vvn  body  (x\'.  4) ,  and  in  believing 
confidence  lie  awaits  the  fulfilment  of  God's  word.  Not  so,  im- 
patient -iSarai.     Hitherto  none  of  the  promises  had  contained  any 


230  ABRAHAM.    (§  57.) 

special  notice  of  he7\  and  her  prospects  of  becoming  mother  de- 
creased with  her  age.  At  length,  concluding  that  she  had  not 
been  destined  to  give  birth  to  the  promised  seed,  she  urged  her 
husband  to  take  her  Egyptian  maid  Hagar  as  concubine,  that 
(as  the  custom  was  at  the  time)  she  might  obtain  by  her  servant 
that  which  seemed  denied  to  herself.  Abram  complied  ;  but  the 
consequences  soon  showed  how  vain  any  such  attempts  at  self- 
deliverance  were.  Hagar  now  despised  her  mistress,  and  when 
the  latter  intended  to  humble  her,  fled  towards  her  native  coun- 
try. But  the  connection  with  Abram  surroimds  even  the  rebel- 
lious maid  with  a  certain  halo.  The  son  whom  she  is  about  to 
bear  is  to  be  educated  in  the  house  of  Abram,  in  order  to  be 
capable  of  obtaining  the  measure  of  blessing  destined  for  him 
(1.)  In  the  wilderness  not  far  from  Shur  (2),  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  (3)  arrests  the  course  of  Hagar,  and  induces  her  to  return. 
In  the  eighty-sixth  year  of  Abram's  life,  she  gave  birth  to  a  son, 
who,  according  to  the  angeUc  injunction  to  Hagar,  was  called 
Ishmael  {i.e.,  Heard  of  God.) 

(1.)  The  angel  of  Jehovah  found  Hagar  by  a  fountain  in  the 
way  to  Shur.  On  the  situation  of  Shur,  comp.  especially  Tuch, 
in  the  Jom'nal  of  the  German  Oriental  Society,  i.,  p.  173,  &c. 
In  Gen.  xxv.  18,  this  Shur  is  said  to  be  "  before  Egypt"  (comp. 
1  Sam.  XV.  7 ;  xxvii.  8.)  At  any  rate,  it  seems  likely  that 
Hagar  would  have  fled  toward  her  own  country,  Egypt.  "  As 
the  wilderness  is  not  a  place  tlu-ough  which  many  difi'erent  roads 
lead,  it  is  likely  that  Hagar  pursued  the  path  that  was  followed 
at  all  times.  This  leads  from  the  modern  Cairo  to  Ajrud,  and 
thence  tln'ough  the  pass  of  Mukhjeb  to  the  plateau  of  the  Et- 
Tih,  then  passes  tlu"ough  the  western  part  of  the  great  wilder- 
ness as  far  as  the  northern  boundary  of  the  Jebel  Helal,  and 
turning  eastward  merges  in  the  roads  which  lead  from  Sinai 
and  Aliabah  by  Beersheba  to  Hebron"  {Tuch,  1.  c,  p.  175.) 
Hence,  speaking  generally,  Shur  is  the  western  part  of  the  wil- 
derness, which  is  presently  called  by  the  Arabians  the  wilderness 
of  Jifar,  in  contradistinction  to  the  eastern  portion,  or  "  the 
wilderness  of  the  children  of  Israel."  It  is  stiU  considered  as 
belonging  to  Egypt.  In  the  narrative,  the  exact  locality  is  even 
more  particularly  indicated  by  the  statement  that  it  was  between 
Kadish  and  Bered.  But  as  the  situation  of  the  former  place  has 
not  yet  been  exactly  fixed,  while  the  latter  is  wholly  unknown 
(Tuch  supposes  that  Bered  is  the  modern  Jebel  Helal)  tliis 
statement  only  confirms  wliat  had  otherwise  been  ascertained. 


CIKCUMCISION.    (§  58.)  231 

viz.,  that  these  events  took  place  in  the  wilderness  between 
Palestine  and  Egy^Dt.  Hagar  calls  the  fountain  where  this 
vision  is  vouchsafed  to  her  the  "  fountain  of  the  living  who  be- 
holds me."  According  to  Boivland  (in  Williams,  the  Holy- 
City,  p.  489,  &c.),  the  Ai-abs  still  call  a  fountain  about  ten  hours 
beyond  Ruhaibeh  {Robinson,  i.,  pp.  19G,  &c.),  "  3Ioilahi Hagm\' 
which  he  curiously  enough  interprets  Moi  =  water,  and  Lalii 
:=  '^nS'-     Rohinson  also  knew  of  tliis  place,  but  calls  it  Muweilih 

(i.,  p.  172,  &c.)  Tuch  thinks  that  the  locality  exactly  agrees 
with  the  Biblical  account,  a  statement  to  which  Raumer  objects 
(Palestine,  p.  44),  since  the  situation  of  Kadesh,  as  indicated 
by  Roiuland,  cannot  possibly  be  correct.  For  farther  particulars 
about  Kadesh  we  refer  to  vol.  ii. 

(2.)  On  the  prophecy  to  Hagar  about  her  son,  comp.  §  64,  6. 

(3.)  About  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  comp.  §  50,  2. 


CIRCUMCISION,  THE  SECOND  STAGE  OF  THE  COVENANT. 

Prefatory  Note. — Thirteen  years  have  now  elapsed  since 
God  had  last  revealed  Himself  to  Abram.  During  tliis  period 
of  probation,  he  was  to  preserve  and  to  prove  that  faith  wliich 
had  been  reckoned  to  him  for  righteousness.  But  during  the 
long  time  which  had  elapsed  since  the  promised  seed  had  been 
expected,  it  had  appeared  that  Sarai  was  by  nature  barren. 
Now  the  period  had  arrived  when  that  which  was  impossible  to 
nature  should  be  detained  through  grace — when  the  promise 
should  pass  into  the  first  stage  of  its  fulfilment,  and  that  son  be 
born  to  Abram  by  whom  he  was  eventually  to  become  a  great 
nation  and  a  blessing  to  mankind.  Hitherto  the  promise  had 
remained  without  earnest  of  its  fulfilment.  But  from  this  period 
the  fulfilment  was  to  appear  by  the  side  of  the  promise,  to  grow 
up  and  to  enlarge,  gi-adually  to  narrow  the  promise,  until  at  last 
it  would  be  completely  swallowed  up  in  the  reality.  The  pro- 
mise was  entirely  God's,  but  the  fulfilment  was  the  result  of  the 
co-operation  of  God  and  man.  Hitherto  the  covenant  had  been 
ratified  only  by  one  party,  as  Abram  had  not  yet  undertaken  any 
covenant  obligation  (vide  §  5G.)  This  defect  is  now  to  be  sup- 
plied. As  yet  Abram  had  only  called  into  requisition  the  power 
of  natm'e.  An  experience  of  twenty-four  years  had  convinced 
him  that  only  grace,  not  nature,  could  qualify  him  for  the  high 

2 


232  ABRAHAM.    (§58.) 

calling,  to  become,  in  his  seed,  a  blessing  for  all  nations.  But 
this  high  point  was  only  attained  after  the  covenant  had  been 
fully  ratified.  When  Ishmael  was  born,  Abraham  had  not  yet 
been  circumcised;  but  then  Ishmael  was  not  the  son  of  the  pro- 
mise. The  promised  seed  coidd  only  be  obtained  through  means 
of  the  covenant,  and  tlirough  the  co-operation  of  the  two  parties 
to  it.  Abram  begat,  and  the  dead  body  of  Sarai  became  a  spring 
of  life,  in  consequence  of  the  co-operation  of  the  creative  and  re- 
viving power  of  God.  The  birth  of  Isaac  is  the  first  result  of 
the  covenant.  It  must  therefore  be  preceded  by  a  complete  rati- 
fication of  the  covenant. 

§  58.  (Gen.  xvii.) — Wlien  Abram  was  ninety-nine  years  old, 
the  Lord  appeared  to  him.  "  I  am  the  Almighty  God,  walk 
before  me,  and  be  thou  sincere.  ...  As  for  me,  behold  my 
covenant  is  ivith  thee.  .  .  .  Thou  shalt  keep  my  covenant 
therefore,  thou  and  thy  seed  after  thee."  The  promise  that 
Abram  is  to  become  a  father  of  many  nations  is  here  repeated. 
On  the  ground  of  this  promise  his  name  is  no  longer  to  be 
Ab)'am,  but  Abraham,  nor  is  Sarai,  who  was  to  become  the 
mother  of  the  promised  seed,  any  longer  to  be  called  Sarai,  but 
Sarah  (1.)  Besides  this  seed,  through  whom  salvation  is  to 
come,  everlasting  possession  (2)  of  the  land,  in  which  this  salva- 
tion is  to  become  manifest,  is  again  j^romised  to  Abraham. 
The  Lord  also  appoints  circumcision  (3)  as  the  sign  of  the  cove- 
nant, which  is  now  to  be  completely  ratified  by  both  parties. 
To  this  institution  Abraham  and  all  the  male  members  of  his 
household  (4)  are  immediately- to  submit,  and  every  new  born 
child  on  the  eighth  day  after  its  birth.  The  Lord  said :  "  And 
my  covenant  shall  be  in  your  flesh  for  an  everlasting  covenant" 
(5.)  To  neglect  circumcision  was  to  break  the  covenant,  and 
deserved  the  punishment  of  death.  To  receive  circumcision  was 
to  have  part  in  the  blessings  of  the  covenant.  At  the  same  time 
it  became  also  a  personal  and  lasting  admonition  to  remember 
the  obligations  of  that  covenant  which  had  been  undertaken  (6.) 
But  Abraham  cannot  yet  imderstand  how  God  is  to  give  him  such 
seed,  seeing  Sarah  was  as  good  as  dead.  Accordingly  he  j)rays 
"  Oh  !  that  Ishmael  might  live  before  thee."  To  tliis  the  Lord 
replies  in  exjiress  terms.  "  Yea,  Sarah  thy  wife  shall  bear  thee  a 


CIRCUMCISION.    (§  5>^.)  233 

son  indeed,  and  thou  shalt  call  his  name  Isaac.  With  him  will 
I  establish  my  covenant,  and  with  his  seed  after  him.  And  as 
for  Ishmacl,  I  have  heard  thee.  Behold,  I  have  blessed  him, 
and  will  multiply  him  exceedingly.  But  my  covenant  wiU  I 
establish  with  Isaac,  whom  Sarah  shall  bear  unto  thee  in  the 
next  year." 

(1.)  It  certainly  has  a  peculiar  meaning,  that  when  we  enter 
on  the  second  stage  in  the  life  of  the  chosen,  the  names  of  Abram 
AND  HIS  WIFE  SHOULD  BE  CHANGED.  This,  as  it  Were,  is  a  symbol 
and  an  earnest  of  the  new  tiling  wliich  the  Lord  is  to  bring  forth. 
For  "  the  name  indicates  the  character"  {Fr.  v.  Meyer,  Pages 
for  Higher  Truth,  8,  p.  388.)  It  is  the  motto  for  the  new  path 
of  life  opening  before  them.  (On  the  import  of  the  giving  and 
changing  of  names  generally,  comp.  the  profound  remarks  of 
Hencjstenherg ,  Contrib.  ii.,  p.  270,  &c.)  EtymolugicaUy,  the 
former  name  Q-^^i^^  is  =  □I'l^i^  (^  Kings  xvi.  34),  and  equi- 
valent to  "pater  altituclinis"  (comp.  Tiich,  ad  h.  1.)  On  account 
of  its  indehniteness,  this  name  is  less  suitable  for  indicating  the 
pecuUar  calling  of  the  father  of  nations,  than  the  new  name 

UrVSy^  =  "pater  multitudinis'  {A^j  =  immerus  copiosus.) 

T    T  :    —  • 

More  difficult  is  it  to  interpret  the  other  two  names.  Commonly 
the  word  n-^^  (LXX.  Hdpa)  is  translated  "  my  prmcess,"  and 

TT^iD  (LXX.  Sdppa)  "princess."     According  to  the  precedent 

of  Jerome,  this  is  then  explained  as  implying  that  she  was  not 
to  be  the  mother  of  only  one  family,  but  in  general  and  without 
limitation  to  be  called  a  princess.  But  irrespective  of  the  cir- 
cimistance  that  '^'y^  is  a  masculine  form,  Iken  (Dissert.  Philol. 
Theol.  i.,  Dissert.  !2)  is  certainly  right  in  remarking,  "  quid 
quaeso  dici  potest  frigidius  !"  Eivald  maintains  there  is  no  dif- 
ference between  the  two  names,  that  the  second  form  is  only  a 
more  full  pronunciation  of  the  first,  and  he  interprets  both  as 
meaning  "  contentious,"  deriving  them  from  nitLV  ^^  contend. 
Lengerke  also  thinl^s  that  the  two  forms  are  identical  (=  prin- 
cess), the  one  being  an  earlier  and  the  other  a  later  modification 
of  the  word.  But  without  doubt  the  author  of  Genesis  regarded 
the  change  as  not  only  a  modification  of  the  form,  but  also  of 
the  meaning.  Hence  the  greatest  probabiUty  still  attaches  to 
the  opinion  of  Iken,  who  suggests  that,  according  to  a  common 
use  of  the  plural,  '\yt2^  means  as  much  as  ijrincipatus  or  nohilitas, 
while  pj-^''^^  must  be  derived  iVom  |  ^  ii.,  to  be  fruitful.  The 
change  of  the  letters  ^  and  pj  i^  "^^^  uncommon.     This  inter- 


234  ABRAHAM.    (§  58.) 

pretation  is  confirmed  by  the  reduplication  of  the  second  radical 
letter  in  the  LXX.,  while  it  admirably  agrees  with  the  context 
(v.  16,  "  she  shall  become  nations.")  Delitzsch  (p.  227)  has 
again  called  attention  to  an  old  but  deep  remark,  to  the  efiect 
that  the  fundamental  letter  of  the  name  Jehovah,  which  is  the 
guiding  star  of  that  wonderful  future,  towards  which  the  seed  of 
Abraham  was,  in  virtue  of  the  covenant,  to  tend,  had  been  now 
inserted  into  both  these  names.  But  we  confess  to  some  diffi- 
culty in  supposing  that  this  was  specially  intended  in  the  change 
of  the  names. 

(2.)  In  this  promise  (v.  8)  both  the  possession  of  the  land 
and  the  covenant  about  to  be  instituted,  are  designated  as  ever- 
lasting (w.  7  and  13.)  Nor  can  we  wonder  that  the  covenant 
should  be  called  such,  since  it  was  certainly  to  attain  its  goal. 
For,  if  the  result  of  the  covenant  is  everlasting,  the  covenant 
itself,  whose  completion  that  result  is,  must  likewise  be  such. 
The  promise  of  an  everlasting  possession  of  the  land  indicates, 
in  the  first  place,  that  the  futm-e  position  was  to  be  vastly  diffe- 
rent from  the  present  circimistances  of  Abraham,  when,  as  pil- 
grim, he  could  not  call  one  foot  of  the  promised  land  liis  own. 
But  farther,  the  land  of  promise  is  the  inheritance  and  the  pos- 
session of  his  seed,  and  ever  remains  such,  even  though  Israel 
shoidd  be  banished  from  it,  and  their  exile  last  not  only  seventy 
but  even  2000  years. 

(3.)  On  Circumcision,  comp.  especially  J.  Bergson  (Circum- 
cision viewed  in  its  Historical,  Critical,  and  Medical  Aspect, 
Berlin,  1844),  Friedreich  (Remarks  on  the  Bible,  ii.,  p.  39,  &c.), 
Hofmann  (in  the  Halle  Enclyp.,  ix.,  p.  267,  &c.),  Winer  (Real 
Lex.,  s.  h.  v.),  and  the  literatm'e  there  indicated,  wliich,  how- 
ever, does  not  much  assist  us  in  understanding  the  religious 
meaning  of  the  rite.  According  to  Herodotus,  the  Israehtes  de- 
rived circiuncision  from  the  Egyptians  (ii.  104)  :  Movvol  irdv- 
rcov  dvdpcoTTOJu  K6\-)(^oi  Kal  AlyvTrrtOL  Kai  AWio-rre^i  TrepiTa/jLVovrai 
CLTT  dp'xrj<;  rd  alhola.  ^oiviice<i  he  Kal  ^vpioL  ol  iv  Trj  IlaXat- 
arivrj  koX  avrol  ofMoXoyiovai  Trap'  AlyvTrricov  fie/xadTjKevai.  But 
this  information  was  certainly  not  derived  from  Palestinian 
Syiians  but  from  Egyptian  priests.  Christian  writers  have,  on 
the  other  hand,  been  formerly  in  the  habit — chiefly  from  unhis- 
torical  prejudices — of  maintaining  that  the  Egy|)tians  had  de- 
rived circumcision  from  the  Israelites.  To  tliis  view  Tuch 
(Comm.,  p.  344)  rightly  objects  that  at  the  time  of  their  sojom-n 
in  Egypt,  the  Egyptian  system  of  isolation  had  been  fuUy  esta- 
blished, and  that  foreign  nomadic  races  were  held  in  abhorrence. 
At  the  sametime  circumcision  was  not  in  universal  practice 
among  the  Egyj^tians.  According  to  Origen  (Hom.  5  in  Jer.) 
onli/  priests,  and  according  to  Clement  (Strom,  i.,  p.  302,  Ed. 


CTECUMCISION.    (§  58.)  235 

Sylb.)  those  also  who  wished  to  be  admitted  to  the  mysteries, 
underwent  this  rite.  A  comparison  of  the  religious  symbols  of 
the  Old  Testament  with  those  of  ancient  heathendom,  shows 
that  tlie  ground  and  the  starting  point  of  those  forms  of  religion 
wliich  found  their  approi)riate  expression  in  symbols,  was  the 
same  in  all  cases,  wliile  the  history  of  civilisation  proves  that,  on 
this  pomt,  priority  cannot  be  claimed  by  the  Israelites.  But  when 
instituting  such  an  enquiry,  we  shall  also  find  that  the  symbols 
which  were  transferred  from  the  rehgions  of  nature  to  that  of  the 
spirit,  first  passed  through  the  fire  of  Divine  pm'ification,  from 
wliich  they  issued  as  the  distinctive  theology  of  the  Jews,  the  dross 
of  a  jjantheistic  deification  of  nature  having  been  consumed. 
Taking  tliis  view  of  the  subject,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  admit  that 
the  circmncision  of  the  Egyptians,  or,  if  you  like,  of  any  other 
nation,  originated  at  the  same  time  with,  or  even  prior  to,  that 
of  Abraham.  It  is  possible  that  during  his  sojourn  in  Egypt 
Abraham  had  there  become  acquainted  with  the  rite  of  circum- 
cision, and  that  this  circumstance  formed,  in  his  case,  a  subjec- 
tive point  of  connection  for  the  objective  Di\dne  institution.  But 
it  is  equally  possible  that  circumcision  was  introduced  in  the 
family  of  Abraham  and  in  the  country  of  Pharaoh  Avithout  any 
reference  to  each  other,  and  that  in  both  cases  it  owed  its  origin 
to  a  kindred  direction  of  religious  thinl^ing  which  expressed  itself 
in  symbols.  This  is  the  more  probable,  as  circumcision  was  in- 
troduced among  nations  (as,  for  example,  in  America,  in  the  South 
Sea  Islands,  &c.)  who  cannot  possibly  have  stood  in  any  connec- 
tion either  with  the  Israelites  or  ^vith  the  Egy]>tians. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  in  those  forms  of  religion  which  con- 
sisted in  nature-worship,  circumcision  was  connected  with  the 
service  of  Phallus.  But  we  most  decidedlv  object  to  the  view  of 
V.  Bolden  (p.  194),  of  Tuch  (p.  344),  of  Vatke  (i.  p.  380,  &c.), 
and  of  Br.  Beaur  (i.,  p.  88),  according  to  whom  it  was  "  a  mo- 
dification of  the  habit  of  emasculation  in  honour  of  the  Deity,  the 
foreskin  only  being  in  this  case  taken  away."  It  rather  implied 
the  opposite  of  this.  Emasculation  was  the  removal,  circumci- 
sion an  increase  of  the  j)owers  of  nature.  The  former  was  a  sa- 
crifice and  surrender  made  to  the  destroying,  the  latter  to  the 
geneixiting  power  of  nature  in  its  highest  manifestation.  In 
general,  Symbolic  takes  its  starting-point  from  the  outward 
phenomenon  and  experience,  and  transfers  to  supersensuous 
ideas  the  import  of  objects  in  nature,  as  this  inii)ort  is  gathered 
from  such  experience.  The  statement  of  Herodot.  ii.  37 :  ra 
8e  alBola  irepndfxvovTai,  kaOapioTTjTO^  e'lveKev,  to  which  Philo  de 
Circimicis.  ii.,  p.  210,  adds  fruittulness  as  another  reason,  dates 
from  a  time  when  the  freshness  of  symbolic  views  had  been  lost, 
and  an  attempt  was  made  to  supply  this  defect  by  utilitarian 


23G  ABRAHAM.    (§  58.) 

theories.  Besides,  it  does  not  explain  why  the  rite  of  circumci- 
sion should  have  been  confined  to  the  priests,  as  the  preservation 
of  health  and  fruitfulness  were  of  the  same  importance  to  the 
other  classes  in  the  community.  Still,  this  view  contained  ele- 
ments capable  of  serving  as  a  foundation  for  such  a  symbol. 
The  rehgious  importance  of  generation  in  the  worship  of  nature 
consisted  in  tliis,  that  it  was  regarded  as  the  central  and  highest 
point  in  the  (deified)  life  of  nature.  Hence  the  rite  of  devoting 
it  to  the  gods,  to  wliich  we  have  above  referred.  But  as  every- 
thing human  required  to  be  purified,  set  apart  and  dedicated, 
before  it  could  be  brought  into  immetliate  contact  "SNatli  the  Deity, 
so  generation  also,  which  was  to  exhibit  a  perfect  representation 
of  the  Divine  power  of  procreation  inherent  in  natm-e.  Hence 
the  rite  of  circumcision  was,  on  the  grounds  indicated  by  Hero- 
dotus and  Philo,  regarded  as  the  removal  of  something  undedi- 
cated  and  prejudicial,  and  thus  became  the  symbol  of  dedication 
to  the  Deity.  Hence  also  those  persons  Avho  had  peculiarly  or 
exclusively  devoted  themselves  to  the  ministry  of  the  worsliip  of 
nature  were  si^ecially  bound  to  submit  to  circumcision,  in  order 
to  exhibit,  in  the  highest  ideal  purity,  power,  and  fulness,  those 
functions  of  life  wliich,  above  all  others,  were  regarded  as  the 
representations  of  life-manifestation  on  the  part  of  the  Deity. 

But  this  view  of  circumcision  was  distinctively  that  of  hea- 
thenism ;  and  Judaism  could  not  adopt  it  without,  at  the  same- 
time,  contradicting  itself.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  in  general 
true  that,  in  itself,  all  natural  generation  was  unsanctified  and 
non-dedicated,  that  it  was  surrounded  by  impure  and  disturbing- 
elements  (represented  by  the  foreskin)  ;  nor  was  a  conviction 
like  that  discordant  from  the  religious  views  of  the  Patriarchs 
and  their  descendants.  And  as  their  view  of  generation  in  its 
relation  to  religion,  so  that  of  "the  impurity  attaching  to  it,  was 
wholly  and  essentially  different  from  that  of  the  heathen.  To 
Abraham,  also,  and  to  his  descendants,  generation  had  its  religious 
import,  being  the  meditim  by  which  the  covenant  was  to  develop  : 
"  in  thy  seed  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed."  The 
fulfilment  of  this  promise  implied  that  the  seed  of  Abraham 
should  continue  until  salvation  was  fully  exhibited  before  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth.  Up  to  that  period,  then,  generation  was 
to  be  directly  subservient  to  covencmt  purposes,  which  could  not 
have  been  attained  without  it.  But  merely  natural  generation, 
which,  in  the  case  of  Abraham,  could  not  have  been  the  means 
of  producing  the  first  link  in  the  chain,  would,  even  in  his 
descendants,  not  have  led  to  the  goal  in  view.  Hence,  in  the 
covenant,  God  promised  His  co-operation,  and  as  His  power  at 
the  first  gave  to  Abraham  the  first  link  of  the  great  chain,  much 
more  does  hi?  omnipotence  appear  in  the  production  of  the  last 


CIRCUMCISION.    (§  58.)  237 

link  ill  which  the  promise  was  to  be  wholly  fulfiRed.  Merely 
ordinary  geiK'ration  could  not  produce  that  seed,  through  whom 
salvation  should  be  l)rought,  because  this  seed  must  have  been 
free  from  the  gicilt  and  condemnation  which  results  from  sin. 
Generation  is  the  channel  through  which  the  nature  of  man, 
infected  by  sin,  is  continued  from  father  to  son.  The  impurity 
and  unholiness  which  clings  to  it  must  be  removed,  if  the  object 
of  the  covenant  is  to  be  attained.  But  the  foreskin  is  the  symbol 
of  natural  growth,  of  impurity  and  disturbance.  To  exliibit, 
therefore,  the  idea  that,  in  itself,  natural  generation  was  tainted 
with  impurity,  and  hence  incapable  of  attaining  the  object  in 
view,  but  that  tWs  was  to  be  reached  by  the  operation  of  God, 
the  Lord  commanded  that  the  foresldn  should  be  taken  away, 
and  that,  before  the  first  link  of  the  chain  was  called  into  being. 
Still,  as  the  foreskin  is  merely  the  symbol  of  these  impediments, 
its  removal  is  not  identical  with  that  of  tlie  impediment  itself. 
By  and  by,  when  the  object  of  the  covenant  would  be  attained, 
God  would,  in  the  course  of  the  development,  also  remove  that 
impediment  itself  Hence,  what  at  that  time  was  a  symbol, 
became  also  a  type  for  the  future,  and,  as  such,  it  points  to  a 
mode  of  generation  where  sin  and  impm'ity  should  actually  and 
absolutely  be  removed,  and  where  the  aim  of  the  covenant  should 
be  attained.  (Comp.  Ehrard,  The  Doctrine  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  p.  26.) 

If,  viewed  in  its  negative  bearing,  circumcision,  as  introduced 
in  the  family  of  Abraham,  implied  a  symbolical  removal  from 
generation  of  what  was  unholy  and  impure,  viewed  positively,  it 
conveyed  a  symbolic  dedication  and  setting  apart  thereof  for 
Divine  purposes,  in  and  through  the  covenant.  For,  in  this 
manner,  the  covenant  people  is  called  into  being  and  continued, 
and  this  people  is  to  be  a  lioly  and  a  p)riestly  nation  (Exod.  xix. 
5  and  G.)  This,  then,  is  the  objective  import  of  circumcision, 
the  ground  on  which  God  insists  upon  it.  Its  S2ibjective  aspect, 
the  gi'ound  on  which  Al^raham  administered  the  rite  to  himself 
and  to  liis  family,  was,  that  thereby  man  falls  in  with  the  Divine 
covenant-idea,  and  undertakes  the  covenant  obligations  devolving 
on  him.  Thus  circumcision  becomes  a  sign  and,  seal  of  the  cove- 
nant, i.  e. ,  it  makes  every  one  who  has  submitted  to  it  a  partalier 
of  the  pfrivileges,  and  demands  at  his  hands  fulfilment  of  the 
duties  connected  with  the  covenant.  And  because  not  only  the 
abstract  and  ideal  totality  of  the  people,  but  every  single  indi- 
vidual, shares  in  the  covenant  privileges  and  obligations,  he  must 
also  personally  have  part  in  the  covenant,  and  take  its  sign 
upon  himself 

If  even  the  generation  of  the  covenant  people  is  to  be  sanctified 
and  devoted  to  covenant-purposes,  it  follows,  as  matter  of  course, 


238  ABKAHAM.    (§  58.) 

that  their  wliole  lift,  which  commences  with  this  generation,  is 
to  be  set  apart  for  these  objects  (Rom.  xi.  16),  to  subserve  and 
to  advance  them.  The  child  begotten  in  circumcision  is  thereby 
sanctified  for  the  covenant  (1  Cor.  vii.  14),  and  this  is  realised 
when,  in  turn,  it  undergoes  circumcision.  Circumcision,  which 
is  to  remove  the  groAvth  of  nature — that  which  is  unholy  and 
impure — from  the  principle  and  source  of  life,  is,  so  to  speak,  to 
extend  its  power  and  influence  tlnrough  all  the  ramifications  of  Hfe. 
It  implies  the  obligation  of  withdrawing  all  the  other  relations  of 
life  from  the  dominion  of  nature,  of  circumcising  the  foreskin  of 
the  heart,  of  the  lips,  of  the  ear,  &c.  (Lev.  xxvi.  41  ;  Deut.  x. 
IG  ;  XXX.  6  ;  Jer.  iv.  4  ;  ix.  25,  &c.),  and  of  devoting  heart  and 
mind  to  the  duties  and  purposes  of  the  covenant. 

The  new-born  child  was  to  be  circumcised  on  the  eighth 
DAY.  This  ordinance  had  its  origin  in  the  sanctity  attaching  to 
the  number  7.  Seven  j^eriods  (days,  years,  weeks  of  years)  form 
a  cycle  in  wliich  smaller  or  larger  circles  are  described,  to  be  in 
turn  followed  by  new  circles  and  a  new  development.  Hence, 
the  eighth  period  of  the  old  formed  always  the  coromencement 
of  a  new  development,  and  the  child  was  to  be  circmncised  after 
the  first  seven  days  had  run  out.  By  circumcision  the  cliild 
entered  into  covenant  with  God  ;  he  was  introduced  into  a  new 
world,  into  the  kingdom  of  God — and  a  new  era  commenced  in 
his  life.  This  was  to  take  place  when,  with  the  eighth  day,  a 
new  cycle  had  begun. 

Circumcision  was  confined  to  the  male  sex.  Females  had  no 
equivalent  for  it.  This  was  neither  owing  to  the  physical  nor  to 
the  ethical  state  of  woman,  but  to  the  dependent  position  which 
she  occupied  in  antiquity.  Circumcision,  indeed,  implied  as 
much  the  humiliation  as  the  exaltation  of  man,  expressing,  as  it 
did,  both  liis  natural  incapacity  for  being  a  member  of  the 
covenant,  and  his  especial  divine  calling  in  that  direction.  The 
absence  of  circumcision  does  not  convey  that  these  lessons  and 
privileges  apphed  not  to  woman  also,  but  that  she  was  dependent, 
and  that  her  position  in  the  natiual  and  covenant-life  was  not 
"  luithouf'  the  husband,  but  in  and  loith  him,  not  in  her  capacity 
as  looDian,  but  as  wife  (and  mother.)  But  woman  is  sanctified 
and  set  apart  in  and  with  man ;  in  and  with  him  she  has  part 
in  the  covenant,  and,  so  far  as  her  nature  and  position  demand 
and  admit  of  it,  she  has  to  co-operate  in  the  development  of  the 
covenant. 

(4.)  Not  only  Abraham  and  the  son  of  promise  who  is  to  be 
born  unto  him,  but  Ishmael  also,  the  son  of  the  handmaid,  and 
even  aU  the  servants  of  the  family,  whether  born  in  the  house 
or  bought  with  money,  are  to  be  circumcised.  By  taking  upon 
themselves  this  sign  of  the  covenant,  they  also  obtain  part  and 


JEHOVAH  VISITS  ABRAHAM.    (§  C)S,  59.)  239 

share  in  the  covenant  into  which  God  entered  with  Abraham. 
Ishmael  left  afterwards,  indeed,  the  communion  of  his  father's 
house,  and  hence  also  the  covenant,  which  was  confined  to  this 
family.  But  he  was  only  cut  off  by  his  own  act,  and  because  he 
had  become  wholly  a  stranger  to  the  purposes  and  interests  of 
tliis  covenant.  But  all  tliose  servants  who  continued  in  com- 
munion witli  the  chosen  family  remained  also  in  communion  with 
the  covenant.  Here  also  we  see  how  unjust  the  accusation,  as  if 
the  Old  Covenant  was  the  expression  of  a  narrow-minded  and 
exclusive  particularism.  It  was  not  such  even  in  its  commence- 
ment, and  ever  afterwards  any  stranger  who  was  not  of  the  seed 
of  Abraham  might,  by  submitting  to  circumcision,  enter  into 
communion  with  the  covenant  and  share  its  blessings.  The  only 
essential  difference  between  such  members  of  the  covenant-people 
and  the  descendants  of  Aliraham  was  the  continuance  of  the 
promise  that  the  chain  wliich  was  to  terminate  in  Him  who  was 
to  work  out  salvation,  would  commence  with  and  continue  in  the 
direct  descendants  of  Abraham. 

(5.)  We  have  seen  that,  in  the  second  stage  of  the  covenant, 
man  sanctions  and  ratifies  the  covenant  into  which  God  had 
formerly  entered.  The  duties  which  Abraham  now  undertook 
may,  in  general,  be  smnmed  up  in  the  words  vnth  wliich  the 
Lord-  addresses  him :  "  Walk  before  me  and  be  thou  perfect 
(unblameable.)"  He  is  to  display  a  faith  which  implicitly  sur- 
renders itself  to  the  guidance  of  God  ;  and  this  faith  is  to  result 
in  an  obedience,  which,  so  far  as  in  him  lies,  causes  him  to  come 
up  to  the  demands  of  God.  As  the  promises  of  God,  Avhicli,  in 
the  covenant.  He  had  undertaken  to  fulfil,  so  the  demand  made 
upon  man  is,  in  the  first  place,  general  and  indefinite.  The 
covenant-duties  of  Abraham  come  out  more  definitely  in  chap, 
xviii.  19,  when  Jehovah  expresses  what  line  of  conduct  He  ex- 
pected of  the  seed  of  Abraham.  "I  know  him,  saith  Jehovah, 
that  he  will  command  his  children  and  household  after  him,  that 
they  shall  keep  the  way  of  Jehovah,  and  do  justice  and  judgment, 
that  Jeliovah  may  bring  upon  Abraham  that  which  He  has 
promised  to  him." 


JEHOVAH  VISITS  ABRAHAM  IN  THE  WOOD  OF  MAMRE. 

§  59.  (Gen.  xviii.  1 — 15.)  Soon  afterwards  three  men,  in 
whom  Abraham  immediately  recognises  a  personal  representation 
of  Jehovah,  appear  before  his  tent  in  the  wood  of  Mamre.  His 
correct  and  delicate  tact  induce  him  to  receive  the  strangers  in  a 
manner  corresponding  to  the  form  of  appearance  wlncli  they  had 


240  ABBAHAM.    (§  59.) 

seen  fit  to  choose.  Although  knowing  their  character,  he  hiunbly 
and  pressingly  invited  them  to  come  into  his  tent,  and  enter- 
tained them  with  the  utmost  hospitality.  But  their  visit  had 
rather  been  intended  for  Sarah  than  for  Abraham.  Accordingly, 
the  strangers  enquire  after  her,  and,  when  Abraham  informs 
them  that  Sarah  was  in  the  tent,  one  of  them  solemnly  promises 
and  announces  that  Sarah  should  within  a  year  bear  a  son. 
When  Sarah  heard  this,  the  contrast  between  the  promise  and 
her  actual  circimistances  appeared  to  her  so  odd  that,  consider- 
ing her  own  dead  body,  rather  than  what  had  been  promised 
and  the  character  of  Him  who  now  spoke,  she  laughed,  doubting 
within  herself  the  possibility  of  the  event  announced.  This  led 
to  a  conversation  with  Sarah,  in  wliich,  while  her  unbelieving 
merriment  was  reproved,  the  promise  was  repeated  in  the  most 
confident  and  circumstantial  manner,  and  its  fulfilment  directly 
traced  to  the  omnipotence  of  Jehovah.  Ashamed  of  her  unbelief, 
Sarah  would  now  fain  have  denied  that  she  had  laughed,  but  the 
heavenly  stranger  replied  to  her  assertions :  "  Nay,  but  thou 
didst  laugh." 

(1.)  Baumgarten  holds  that  it  had  been  the  purpose  of  this 
Theophany  to  "  repeat  once  more  to  Abraham  the  great  and 
important  j^romise  of  the  birth  of  a  son  by  Sarah."  Referring  to 
tliis  statement,  Tucli  points  out  the  identity  of  tliis  promise  with 
that  in  chap.  xvii. ,  and  the  chronological  data  of  the  two  accounts 
(comp.  xviii.  10  with  xvii.  21),  and  infers  that  both  are  only 
different  narratives  of  one  and  the  same  legend.  In  point  of 
fact  it  is,  to  say  the  least,  highly  improbable  that  Jehovah  should 
have  again  appeared  to  Abraham  merely  to  repeat  to  him  what, 
only  afetv  days  before,  he  had  announced  with  the  same  fulness 
and  distinctness.  But  the  three  strangers  have  a  twofold  mission  : 
the  one  to  Sarah,  the  other  (comp.  §  60)  to  Abraham.  In  his 
former  manifestation  God  had  assured  Ahraham  of  the  birth  of 
a  son  by  Sarah,  and  Abraham  had  in  faith  received  this  promise. 
In  \drtue  of  this  beheving  surrender  to  the  promise,  the  Divine 
creative  agency  rendered  Abraham  capable  of  begetting  a  son. 
But,  in  order  that  Sarah  might  also  learn  to  beheve  and  be  enabled 
to  bear  the  promised  seed,  her  dead  body  also  must  be  quickened 
and  revived  by  the  same  power.  Probably,  Abraham's  account 
of  the  Divine  revelation  with  which  he  had  been  honoured  had 
not  sufficed  for  this  purpose.  A  stronger  appeal  must  be  made 
to  her,  and  Jehovah  himself  must  announce  and  assure  her  of 


JEHOVAH  VISITS  ABRAHAM.    (§  69,  60.)  241 

that  which  had  seemed  incredible  to  her.  Then  only  she  believes 
and  attains  that  sj^iritual  ele'\''ation,  where  she  becomes  cajiable 
to  be  the  mother  of  the  promised  seed  (Heb.  xi.  11.)  The  nar- 
rative distinctly  and  decisively  proves  that  the  renewal  of  the 
promise  was  meant  for  Sarah  and  not  for  Abraham.  Tlie  first 
sentence  which  the  strangers  utter,  is  to  enquire:  "Where  is 
Sarah  tliy  wife  ?"  and  immediately  afterwards  the  messenger  of 
Jehovah  adds  the  prediction,  which  it  was  meant  Sarah  should 
hear,  and  wliich  she  actually  heard.  Then  follows  the  colloquy 
between  the  heavenly  guest  and  Sarah,  in  wMch  Abraham  takes 
no  part,  but,  so  to  spealv,  remains  in  the  background. 

Wc  have  no  difficulty  in  understanding  how  the  angels  (as 
they  are  expressly  called  in  chap.  xix.  1)  who  represent  Jeliovah 
"  partake  of  the  food"  set  before  them.  If  they  took  upon  them- 
selves a  human  body,  they  could  also  eat.  The  account  is  similar 
to  that  in  Luke  xxiv.  41.  At  the  same  time  the  fact  that  the 
angel  of  Jehovah  condescended  to  enter  into  Abraham's  tent,  and 
to  partake  of  his  hospitality — which  ive  regard  as  a  tjqDC  of  Him 
who  tabernacled  among  us  (John  i.  14),  and  was  found  in  manner 
as  a  man  (Pliilip.  ii.  7) — must  have  been  to  Abraham  a  guarantee 
for  the  reality  of  the  covenant,  and  a  prophetic  pledge  of  future  and 
still  more  condescending  manifestations  on  the  part  of  Jehovah. 
That  Jehovah  was  in  this  instance  represented  by  three  angels, 
and  not  by  one  only,  we  explain  with  Delitzsch  on  the  ground 
that  it  was  their  mission  not  merely  to  promise,  but  also  to 
punish  and  to  deliver.  We  doubt  that  it  could  have  borne  any 
reference  to  the  Trinity,  as  the  knowledge  of  this  mystery  must 
have  lain  beyond  the  consciousness  of  the  Patriarchs.  We  shoidd 
rather  feel  inchned  to  think  of  the  s}mibolical  meaning  of  the 
number  three,  in  which  plurality  again  returns  to  unity.  We 
suppose  that  the  angel  who  talked  with  Sarah,  and  remained 
behind  with  Abraham,  was  that  prince  of  angels  who,  according 
to  Dan.  x.  21,  xii.  1,  in  the  appointment  of  Jehovah,  occupies  a 
/f  peculiar  rjiflationship  to  the  seed  of  Abraham.  TMs  view,  how- 
ever, does'  not  in  any  way  imply  that  the  other  two  angels  who 
came  to  Lot,  and  whom  he  addressed  in  the  same  manner  as 
Abraham  had  addressed  the  three,  by  "  M}^  Lord"  (xix.  18), 
were  not  also  tlie  representatives  of  the  Deity  (comp.  §  50,  2.) 

§  60.  (Gen.  xviii.  16,  &c.) — One  purpose  of  this  Theophany 
had  now  been  obtained.  Sarah  has  l)een  brought  to  believe  in  the 
promise,  and  thus  rendered  capable  to  become  the  mother  of  the 
promised  seed.  Therefore  the  men  now  leave  the  tent  of  Abraham, 
and  return  towards  Sodom.  Abraham  accom|)anies  them  on  the 
way,  and  then  the  second  purpose  of  the  Theoplmny,  in  so  far  as 

VOL.  I.  Q 


242  ABBAHAM.    (§  60.) 

it  applied  more  particularly  to  A  hraham,  is  brought  to  light. 
Jehovah  cannot  hide  from  him  who  was  His  friend,  and  with 
whom  He  had  entered  into  covenant,  that  He  was  going  down  to 
execute  judgment  upon  the  cities  in  the  valley  of  Siddim,  the 
measure  of  whose  sins  had  become  full.  Remembering  his 
calling  and  position  in  the  covenant,  Abraham,  equally  bold  and 
hmnble,  ventures  to  intercede  that  Jehovah  would  spare  the 
cities  for  the  sake  of  those  righteous  that  might  be  found  in 
them.  Jehovah  hears  his  prayer.  Eveiy  gracious  reply  inspires 
Abraham  with  fresh  courage  to  make  farther  intercession,  until 
at  last  he  obtains  j)romise  that  Jehovah  would  spare  these  cities 
if  even  ten  just  persons  were  found  in  them,  for  these  ten's  sake. 

(1.)  The  Divine  purpose  of  judgment  which  Jehovah  has 
come  down  to  execute  ujwn  the  degenerate  cities  bears  such 
close  relation  to  Abraham  that,  in  virtue  of  the  covenant,  Jehovah 
must  reveal  it  to  the  Patriarch.  "  How  can  I  liide  from  Abra- 
ham," saith  the  Lord,  "that  tiling  which  I  do?  seeing  that 
Abraham  shall  surely  become  a  great  and  mighty  nation,  and  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth  shall  be  blessed  in  liim.  For  I  have 
chosen  him  that  he  may  command  liis  cliildren  and  his  household 
after  liim,  that  they  may  keep  the  way  of  Jehovah  and  do  justice 
and  judgment ;  and  so  Jehovah  may  bring  upon  Abraham  that 
which  He  has  promised  to  him."  Through  the  covenant  with 
Jehovah,  Abraham  has  become  the  hereditary  proprietor  of  the 
land.  Mindful  of  this  covenant,  Jehovah  will  not  do  anything 
with  the  land  without  the  knowledge  and  the  assent  of  Abraham. 
On  the  other  hand  this  covenant-condescension  on  the  part  of  Grod 
also  increased  the  covenant-obligations  of  Abraham.  The  Patri- 
arch possesses  or  inherits  the  land  only  in  \drtue  of  the  covenant. 
These  blessings  are  secured  to  him  only  if  he  and  his  seed  after 
him  walk  in  the  ways  of  Jehovah,  in  obecHence  to  the  covenant. 
He  is  therefore  to  instruct  his  household  and  his  chikhen  in  these 
ways,  and  to  see  to  it  that  they  remain  faithful  to  the  covenant. 
If  they  forsake  the  ways  of  Jehovah  and  choose  to  walk  in  those 
of  the  heathen,  the  same  judgment  which  had  been  executed  on 
the  Gentiles  would  also  overtake  them.  Thus  the  communication 
of  Jehovah's  purpose  in  reference  to  Sodom  is  at  the  same  time 
a  solemn  and  telling  warning  addi^essed  to  Abraham  and  to  his 
posterity.  As,  at  a  later  period,  the  Israelites  are  to  execute 
the  ban  upon  the  Amorites  when  the  measure  of  their  iniquity 
has  become  full,  and  thereby  practically  to  declare  that  this 
judgment  was  just,  and  that  they  themselves  incurred  the  same 
if  they  should  ever  forsake  the  ways  of  Jehovah  and  enter  on 


JEHOVAH  VISITS  ABRAHAM.    (§  (JO.)  243 

those  of  the  heathen  (Deut.  viii.  19  and  20),  so  when  Abraham's 
intercession  could  not  be  farther  extended  than  to  the  supj^osition 
that  ten  just  men  were  to  be  found  in  Sodom,  the  patriarch  has 
virtuall}^  to  approve  of  the  judgment  against  the  doomed  cities. 
Thus  also  in  liis  own  name  and  in  that  of  his  descendants  he 
approves  and  consents  that  a  similar  judgment  sliould  overtake 
them,  if,  forgetful  of  the  covenant-obligations,  they  should,  by 
their  apostacy  and  sin,  ever  share  in  the  iniquity  of  the  heathen. 
In  the  text  and  indeed  throughout  the  whole  Old  Testament  the 
judgment  upon  Sodom  is  not  regarded  as  being  an  isolated  event 
which  had  taken  place  before  the  Israehtes  had  got  possession  of 
the  land,  and  which  bore  no  special  reference  to  their  otvn  history, 
but  as  a  continual  warning  and  a  call  to  repentance,  as  a  type 
and  prediction  of  future  judgments,  which  they  might  either  call 
down  or  else  turn  aside  (Deut.  xxix.  23  ;  Isaiah  i.  9  and  10,  xiii. 
19 ;  Jer.  xx.  16,  xxiii.  14,  xlix.  18 ;  1.  40 ;  Lament,  iv.  6 ;  Ezek. 
xvi.  46,  &c.) 

This  is  the  07ily  reason  why  Jehovah  wiU  not  and  cannot  liide 
His  pm'pose  from  Abraham ;  and  it  becomes  sufficiently  appa- 
rent, from  the  manner  in  which  He  couches  His  communication. 
The  words  "  in  him  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed" 
imply  yet  another  motive  for  this  commimication.  It  is  not  to 
be  hid  from  Abraham,  who  was  the  medium  by  whom  all  nations 
should  be  blessed,  what  God  had  determined  in  regard  to  these 
nations. 

These  two  considerations  shew  us  the  only  correct  mode  of 
viewing  the  intercession  o{  Abraham,  on  belialf  of  the  cities  over 
whom  the  judgment  of  destruction  hung  like  a  threatening  cloud. 
It  is  altogether  erroneous  to  liinit  the  motive  for  this  intercession 
to  the  interest  which  Abraham  took  in  the  fate  of  Lot,  or  even 
to  a  kind  of  sentimental  generosity.  In  respect  of  the  former  it 
would  have  been  sufficient  had  lie  only  pled  for  the  family  of 
Lot,  and  the  latter  would,  to  say  the  least,  have  been  quite  out 
of  place  in  presence  of  the  holy  and  just  Judge.  The  promise  of 
tlie  land,  and  of  the  salvation  of  all  nations  through  his  seed,  are 
the  two  great  turning-points  on  which  the  history  of  Abraham 
moves.  They  are  the  two  powerfid  levers  which  throughout  are 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  development  of  tlie  covenant.  They 
are  also  the  turning-points  and  the  levers  of  this  intercession, 
and  inspire  the  patriarch  with  humble  courage  and  hope. 
Abraham  was  set  apart  to  be  the  proprietor  of  the  land  in  which 
these  degenerate  cities  lay.  As  on  that  ground  (§  54,  3)  he  had 
formerly  a])peared  as  the  protector,  avenger,  and  deliverer  of  the 
land  from  itg  enemies,  so  he  felt  now  called  as  mediator  to  nppeal 
from  the  wrath  of  Jehovah  the  Judge  to  the  mercy  of  Jehovah 
the  Covenant-God.     Besides,  Abraham  Avasto  be  the  medium  of 

g2 


244  ABRAHAM.    (§  61.) 

blessing  and  of  salvation  to  all  nations :  he  or  his  seed  after  him 
were  to  be  the  medium  by  which  the  Divine  plan  of  salvation 
was  to  be  accomplished  for  the  heathen.  Hence  he  was  both 
warranted  and  called  upon  to  act  in  this  case  also  as  mediator  for 
the  nations  who,  in  the  judgment  of  Grod,  were  threatened  with 
destruction,  that  so  by  appealing  to  the  mercy  of  Jehovah  who 
had  decreed  salvation,  he  might,  if  possible,  deliver  them  from 
destruction,  and  preserve  them  for  that  salvation  which  was  to 
proceed  from  him  and  to  extend  to  all  nations. 


SODOM  IS  DESTROYED  AND  LOT  PRESERVED. 

§  61.  (Gen.  xix.  1  to  26.) — While  Abraham  holds  communion 
with  one  of  the  three  heavenly  visitors,  the  others  turn  towards 
Sodom.  Lot  (1)  received  them  hospitably,  but  the  heavenly 
beauty  of  the  angels  only  excited  the  vile  licentiousness  of  the 
Sodomites.  At  night  they  surrounded  the  house  of  Lot,  and 
demanded  the  surrender  of  his  guests.  In  vain  Lot  remonstrates, 
and  at  last,  to  avert  from  his  visitors  the  threatened  indignity, 
even  offers  his  own  two  daughters  to  the  populace.  Exasperated 
by  liis  refusal,  the  Sodomites  now  rush  forward  to  attack  Lot, 
but  the  angels  deliver  him  and  smite  tlie  presmnptuous  sinners 
with  bhndness.  Warned  by  the  angels.  Lot  leaves  Sodom  early 
next  morning,  together  with  his  family,  unaccompanied  however 
by  those  who  were  to  have  been  married  to  his  daughters,  and 
whom  he  had  been  allowed  to  take  with  liim  in  liis  flight.  The 
attempt  to  deliver  them  was  vain.  To  liis  admonition  they  re- 
sponded only  by  derision  and  scorn.  Outside  the  city  Jehovah 
admonishes  Lot  to  make  haste  and  flee  to  the  mountains  ;  but  in 
compliance  with  his  entreaty  He  spares  the  little  town  of  Bela  or 
Zoar  to  be  a  place  of  refuge  to  him.  And  now  Jehovah  sends 
fire  and  ])rimstone  from  heaven  and  destroys  the  whole  district, 
with  its  cities  and  inhabitants  (2.)  Despite  the  express  com- 
mand to  the  contrary,  Lot's  wife  looks  behind,  and  is  changed 
into  a  pUlar  of  salt  (3.) 

(1.)  The  moral  and  religious  position  of  Lot  clearly  ap- 
pears from  the  account  before  us.  No  doubt  he  had  entered  into 
too  close  fellowship  with  the  Sodomites,  although  the  text  dis- 
tinctly bears  that  he  had  frequently  opposed   their  sins,  tho 


SODOM  IS  DESTROYED  AND  LOT  PRESERVED.    (§  61.)  245 

expression  (ver.  9),  "  He  will  needs  be  a  judge,"  referring,  as 
Tuch  rightly  observes,  to  previous  and  repeated  admonitions  of 
Lot  under  similar  circumstances.  The  statement  in  ver.  29,  tliat 
Lot  was  delivered  from  the  overthrow  because  God  remembered 
Abraham,  does  not  (as  Tuvh  supposes,  p.  358)  contradict  chap, 
xviii.  26,  according  to  which  he  was  to  be  spared  on  account  of 
his  own  righteousness.  Tlie  latter  passage  neither  afhrms  nor 
denies  the  righteousness  of  Lot,  and  chap.  xix.  29  only  proves 
that  God  had  listened  to  the  intercession  of  Abraham  so  far  as  it 
was  consistent  with  His  judicial  justice. 

(2.)  In  general  compare  J.  Clericus  Diss,  de  Sodomae  et  finit, 
iirbium  subversione,  in  his  Commentary  on  Genesis.     In  Deut. 

Xxix.  23  THE  NUMBER  AND  THE  NAMES  OF  THE  CITIES  DESTROYED 

are  particularly  mentioned  as  Sodom,  Gomorrah,  Adma,  and 
Zeboim  (com}).  Hosea  xi.  8.)  In  Wisdom  x.  6  we  read  of  five 
cities,  but  the  expression  Pentapolis  must  not  be  too  closely 
pressed.  If  in  Gen.  xix.  24  we  have  only  an  account  of  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah,  this  is  explained  by  the  circumstance  that  the 
record  professes  to  furnish  a  narrative  of  the  deliverance  of  Lot 
rather  than  of  the  destruction  of  the  cities.  Sfraho  (1.  16,  2) 
speaks  of  thirteen  cities  that  had  been  destroyed. 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  the  Dead  Sea  occupies  the 
place  of  the  destroyed  cities.  But  this  has  been  controverted  by 
Reland  (Pal.  p.  254,  &c.),  with  arguments  which  have  not  been 
set  aside  by  J.  D.  Michaelis  (De  Natura  et  Origine  Maris 
Mortui  in  his  Commentat.  soc.  Gott.  obi.  iv.  v.),  and  which  claim 
to  be  heard  and  weighed  even  after  the  ])ublication  of  the  account 
furnished  by  the  American  expedition  to  Jordan  (comp.  §  39,  6.) 
The  supposition  of  Lynch  that  the  cities  destroyed  are  buried  in 
the  mud  forming  the  southern  basin  of  the  Dead  Sea  can,  in  our 
opinion,  not  be  inferred  with  certainty  from  the  mere  chfference 
of  bottom  in  the  northern  and  southern  basins.  According  to 
Gen.  xiii.  10  the  cities  lay  in  the  circuit  (cu'cle)  of  the  Jordan, 
and  according  to  Gen.  xiv.  3  the  Dead  Sea  covered  the  place  of 
the  vcde  of  Siddim  ; — but  this  is  no  reason  for  completely  iden- 
tifying the  above  localities.  Indeed  the  last  quoted  jjassage 
shews  that  the  vale  of  Siddim  was  in  the  neighbourhood  of  these 
cities,  not  that  they  lay  in  that  vale.  More  than  that,  the  state- 
ment that  the  kings  of  the  five  cities  assembled  for  battle  in  the 
vale  of  Siddim  seems  rather  to  imply  that  the  cities  had  not 
covered  the  valley.  On  the  other  hand  Deut.  xxix.  23  and 
Zeph.  ii.  9  (Jeremiah  xl.  18,  1.  38)  apjicar  to  favour  the  view  of 
Reland.  According  to  Zeph.  ii.  9  the  locality  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  had  become  "the  breeding  of  nettles  and  saltpits  and 
a  perpetual  desolation,"  while  according  to  Dout.  xxix.  23  the 
whole  land  ''  burned  with  brimstone  and  salt  that  it  is  not  sown 


246  ABRAHAM.    (§61.) 

nor  beareth,  nor  any  grass  groweth  therein."  In  jjerfect  accord- 
ance with  this  Jos€2)hus  (de  bell.  Jud.  iv.  8,  4)  mentions  that 
the  district  Sodomitis,  which  had  formerly  been  a  fruitful  country, 
containing  many  cities,  lay  along  the  Dead  Sea.  However,  the 
southern  basin  of  the  Dead  Sea  must  have  originated  vdth  the 
destruction  of  these  cities,  as,  according  to  Gen.  xix.  17  and  25, 
fJie  ivhole  neighbouring  country,  not  the  cities  only,  was  destroyed. 
But  as  the  Dead  Sea  is  stiU  bounded  on  the  south  by  salt-pits 
(as  described  in  Zeph.  ii.  9  and  Deut.  xxix.  23),  and  as,  accord- 
ing to  Genesis  x.  19,  these  cities  had  formed  the  southermost 
boundary  of  Canaan,  we  are  warranted  in  supposing  that  the 
four  cities  had  stood  on  the  spot  where  now  salt-pits  surround 
the  southern  boundary  of  the  Dead  Sea.  In  general  we  may 
state  that  the  formation  of  tlie  southern  basin  of  the  lake  by  the 
sinking  of  ground,  midermined  by  subterranean  fire,  probably 
belongs  to  a  period  posterior  to  that  of  the  destruction  of  the 
cities. 

Robinson  has  made  special  investigation  of  the  site  of  Zoar 
(vol.  ii.  pp.  517,  &c.)  The  notices  in  the  Bible,  in  Josephus,  in 
Jerome,  in  Eusebius,  &c.,  lead  us  to  look  for  this  city  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea,  and  within  the  territory  of  Moab. 
Robinson  inclines  to  fixing  its  site  at  the  mouth  of  Wady  Kerak, 
where  the  latter  opens  upon  the  Isthnms  of  the  long  peninsula 
that  stretches  into  the  Dead  Sea.  On  that  spot  Irby  and  3Iangles 
had  discovered  traces  of  an  extensive  ancient  site  {Robinson,  vol. 
ii.  p.  107.) 

It  is  not  difficult  to  discover  some  points  of  resemblance 
between  this  account  in  the  Bible  and  the  legend  of  Philemon 
and  Baucis  (Ovid  Metam.  viii.  616,  &c.)  But  it  is  impossible 
to  decide  whether  there  is  any  real  resemblance  to  them.  We 
are  not  incUned  entirely  to  set  aside  the  conjecture,  considering 
the  extensive  spread  among  non-biblical  writers  of  the  account  of 
the  destruction  of  the  cities  (for  example  Tacitus  Histor.  v.  7, 
Solin.  c.  36,  and  especially  Strabo  xvi.  p.  374.) 

(3.)  The  older  commentators  generally  supposed  that  Lot's 
WIFE  had,  in  the  most  literal  sense,  been  changed  into  a  pillar  of 
salt.  Indeed,  to  carry  it  to  the  extreme  of  absurdity,  legend  had 
it  that  it  was  still  with  her  after  the  maimer  of  women  (Carm. 
de  Sodoma  in  Te^'tull.  p.  813,  Iren.  4,  51.)  ^wcA  maintains : 
"  Any  person  who  should  hold  that  such  a  metamorphosis  would 
have  been  incongruous  with  the  spirit  of  the  Old  Testament,  or 
with  the  character  of  Jehovah,  and  who  should  attempt  to  inter- 
pret it  into  a  possible  fact,  only  declares  that  he  has  not  iinder- 
stood  the  spirit  of  this  ancient  poem."  Notwithstanding  this 
remark  we  still  hold  that  it  was  a  possible  fact,  and  assert  that 
any  one  who  would  convert  a  metamorphosis  of  Ovid  into  a 


SODOM  IS  DESTROYED  AND  LOT  PRESERVED.    (§  Gl,  G2.)     247 

judgment  on  the  part  of  the  God  of  the  Old  Testament  is  wholly 
unacquainted  with  the  character  of  the  Old  Testament.  However, 
assertions  and  counter-assertions  of  tliis  kind  are  of  no  value.  The 
text  says  nothing  of  a  metamorphosis,  and  the  expressions  em- 
ployed are  so  indefinite  as  to  shew  that  the  writers  were  really 
ignorant  of  the  manner  of  her  death.  Lot  himself  had  to  huriy 
on,  and  coidd  not  stay  to  investigate  what  had  become  of  his 
wife,  who  had  remained  beliind.  Probably  a  later  search  would 
shew  that  the  place  where  she  had  been  left  was  converted  into  a 
heap  of  salt,  which  therefore  was  considered  both  as  her  grave 
and  as  a  monument  of  Divine  judgment  upon  man's  unbelief 
(ainaTOvcTri^  '^v)(fj<i  fivr)fieLOv  iaTrjKVta  aTrjXrj  aK6<i  Sap.  10,  7.) 
Josephiis  (Ant.  i.  11,  §  4  laropi-jtca  8'  avTrjv,  ere  yap  koI  vvv 
Siafievet),  and  later  travellers  have  declared  that  they  had  seen 
the  pillar  themselves,  but  their  remark  must  refer  to  some  mass 
of  salt  in  the  neighbourhood,  which  popular  opinion  would  point 
out  as  a  relic  connected  with  tliis  ill-fated  woman.  The  members 
of  the  American  expedition  under  Lynch  discovered  on  the 
eastern  side  of  Usdum  a  pillar  of  massive  salt,  cylindrical  in 
front  and  pyramidal  behind.  The  upper  portion  is  rounded,  and 
about  forty  feet  high.  It  rests  upon  a  kind  of  oval  pedestal, 
from  forty  to  sixty  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Probably  this 
is  the  pillar  to  which  Josephtcs  refers.  The  command  not  to 
stand  still  nor  to  look  I'ound  had  reference  both  to  outward  cir- 
cumstances and  to  the  state  of  mind  of  those  who  were  escaping. 
If  neglected,  a  person  might  readily  have  been  overtaken  by  tlie 
rapid  i)rogress  of  destruction.  On  the  other  hand,  to  look  round 
was  to  manifest  a  corresponding  stcde  of  mind.  ,  When  Lot's  wife, 
even  in  that  hour  of  anxious  haste,  could  not  forbear  to  look 
round,  it  implied  not  only  doubt  and  unbelief  as  to  the  Divine 
warning,  but  a  drawing  towards  those  who  had  been  left  behind, 
wliich  showed  that  her  heart  clung  to  the  lusts  of  Sodom,  and 
that  she  had  unwillingly  followed  the  angels'  bidding  (Luke  xvii. 
32.)  Comp.  Clericus  Dis.  de  Statua  salina  in  his  Comm.  For 
a  great  mass  of  other  dissertations  on  this  subject,  we  refer  the 
reader  to  the  Universal  History,  vol.  ii.  note  3 ;  comp.  also 
Friedreich,  Contrib.  to  the  Bible  ii.,  188,  &c. 

§  62.  (Gen.  xix.  27,  &c.) — Lot  does  not  long  remain  in  Zoar. 
The  judgment  executed  upon  Sodom  had  filled  his  soul  with 
such  awe  that  he  no  longer  deemed  himself  safe  anywhere  in  the 
neighbomliood  of  the  Canaanites,  all  of  whom  were  more  or  less 
guilty  of  the  same  estrangement  from  God  as  the  Sodomites. 
He  now  sought  refuge  in  the  wilderness.  A  cave  in  the  moun- 
tains of  what  afterwards  became  the  land  of  Moab  served  him 


248  ABRAHAM.    (§  62.) 

for  a  dwellin<,^-place.  His  daughters,  infected  by  the  moral 
poison  of  Sodom,  concluded  that  his  retirement  from  the  world 
would  deprive  them  of  every  prospect  of  marriage.  Accordingly, 
to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  their  intended  husbands,  they  intoxi- 
cate their  father,  and,  as  the  result  of  their  incestuous  union, 
give  birth  to  Moab  and  to  Ben-Ammi,  respectively  the  ancestors 
of  tlie  Moabites  and  the  Ammonites. 

(1.)  Since  the  time  of  De  Wette  (Crit.  of  Mos.  Hist.  pp.  94 
&c.)  a  certain  land  of  criticism  has  spoken  of  tliis  narrative  as  if 
it  could  only  have  originated  in  the  national  hateed  which 
THE  Israelites  bore  to  the  Ammonites  and  the  Moabites.  But 
the  Pentateuch  shows  the  very  opposite  of  such  national  hatred 
(Deut.  ii.  9  and  19.)  It  is  only  in  punishment  of  their  un- 
brotherly  and  hostile  conduct  towards  Israel  (Deut.  xxiii.  4  and 
5),  and  to  protect  the  Hebrews  from  their  lascivious  and  seduc- 
tive worship  of  nature  (Numb.  xxv.  1,  &c.),  that  they  are  inter- 
dicted from  entering  the  congregation.  Nor  is  it  as  M.  Baum- 
garten  supposes,  the  purpose  of  the  above  narrative  to  shew  the 
interest  which  sacred  history  takes  in  the  nephew  of  Abraham. 
It  is  rather  intended  to  point  out  the  reasons  of  the  peculiar 
relation  which  afterwards  subsisted  between  Israel  and  these 
nations,  and  to  bring  the  history  of  Lot  to  a  proper  conclusion. 

Although  Jehovah  had  expressly  assured  Lot  that  Zoar  would 
be  a  safe  place  of  refuge,  the  latter  deemed  it  more  advisable  to 
take  up  liis  abode  in  the  desert  mountains  which  had  j^reviously 
been  pointed  out  to  him.  .  This  want  of  faith  quite  agrees  with 
what  we  know  of  the  character  of  Lot.  The  more  close  and  in- 
timate his  former  communion  with  these  degenerate  races  had 
been,  the  more  natural  is  it  that  in  so  weak  a  character  a  com- 
plete revulsion  should  take  place  after  the  judgments  which  he 
had  witnessed. 

It  is  almost  absurd  to  account  for  the  sin  of  the  daughters  of 
Lot  on  the  supposition  that  they  Lad  fancied  that  all  the  male 
population  of  the  earth  had  perished  in  the  destruction  of  Sodom. 
But  neither  is  it  correct  when  Baumgarten  (p.  215)  explains  it 
on  the  ground  that  Lot's  fear  of  any  contact  with  strangers  was 
shared  by  his  daughters,  and  that  they  deemed  even  incest  ex- 
cusable in  order  to  procure  descendants  of  pure  and  unmingled 
blood.  Their  proposed  marriage  with  Sodomites  shews  that 
considerations  like  these  did  not  weigh  very  heavily  either  with 
tlieir  father  or  Avith  them.  We  can  be  at  no  loss  for  their 
motives.  Disappointment  about  the  loss  of  their  intended  hus- 
bands, dislike  of  the  isolation  of  their  father,  sensuality,  stimulated 
by  the  lusts  of  Sodom,  perhaps  at  that  time  asserting  its  power 


ABRAHAM  AND  ABIMELECH.    (§  63.)  249 

more  than  ever  before,  a  low  moral  sense,  and  jjerbaps  a  real  or 
fancied  desire  for  progeny,  may  all  have  conspired  to  bring  about 
this  result. 

Baumgarten  explains  the  name  ^^^^  as  derived  by  a  difference 

T 

of  dialect,  or  by  a  corruption  which  frequently  occurs  in  proper 
names,  from  ^^^,  and  he  interprets  i^j^  n  as  "  Son  of  my 

People,'^  implying  that  he  had  been  derived  not  from  a  foreign 
but  from  their  o^vn  race.  But  as  the  text  does  not  furnish  any 
hints  for  an  etymological  derivation  of  these  names,  we  are  not 
warranted  to  suppose  what  is  erroneous,  at  any  rate  so  far  as  the 
name  Moab  is  concerned.     Manifestly  ^^S^  =  ^^;^?:2  is  derived 

T  T 

from  ^^^,  and  therefore  means  "  He  that  has  been  desired,  or 
longed  for."  The  name  seems  to  refer  to  the  longing,  expressed 
(in  vv.  31  and  32)  by  the  elder  daughter  to  obtain  seed. 


ABEAHAM  AND  ABIMELECH. 

§  63.  (Gen.  xx.  xxi.  v.  22  to  34.) — The  day  after  Abraham 
had  made  intercession  for  the  cities  of  the  valley,  he  got  up  early 
in  the  morning  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  near  Hebron,  whence 
he  obtained  a  view  of  that  district.  And  lo  !  the  smoke  of  the 
country  went  up  as  the  smoke  of  a  great  furnace  (chap.  xix.  27, 
28.)  Either  on  account  of  its  vicinity  to  the  valley  of  destruc- 
tion, or  in  quest  of  pasturage,  he  left  Mamre  and  journeyed 
towards  the  sewth-east,  settling  within  the  territory  of  Abimelech  Sou):]n,'i 
of  Gerar,  king  of  the  Philistines  (1.)  As  formerly  in  Eg}q)t  he 
again  passes  his  wife  for  a  sister.  Misled  by  this  statement, 
Abimelech  sends  for  her  to  his  harem  (2.)  Apparently  the  king 
was  not  a  violent  or  despotic  ruler,  but  generous,  noble,  and  even 
feared  the  Lord.  On  tliis  ground  God  prevented  Abimelech  (for 
his  own  sake  also)  from  touching  Sarah,  by  laying  him  on  a  bed 
of  sickness,  and  He  even  condescends  to  reveal  to  him  in  a  dream 
the  true  state  of  matters,  calling  upon  him  not  only  to  return  to 
Abraham  liis  wife,  but,  for  the  atonement  of  his  guilt,  also  to 
seciu-e  the  intercession  of  the  Patriarch,  who  was  a.  prophet  (3.) 
The  king  obeys.  In  the  most  respectful  manner,  and  in  solemn 
public  assembly,  he  restores  to  Abraham  his  wdfe,  at  the  same 
time  bestowing  rich  presents  upon  him  (4.)  To  the  reproof  of 
Abimelech  tliat  by  his  former  misrepresentation  the  Patriarch 
had  brought  him  into  danger,  he  has  nothing  else  to  reply  than 


250  ■  ABRAHAM.    (§  63.) 

that  he  had  thought  that  the  fear  of  God  was  not  in  this  place, 
and  that  in  a  certain  sense  Sarah  really  was  his  sister  (5.)  In 
answer  to  the  prayer  of  Abraham,  God  then  removed  the  plague 
with  wliich  the  household  of  Abimelech  had  been  afflicted  (6.) 
Not  long  afterwards  the  king,  accompanied  by  Phicol,  his  chief 
captain  (7),  "^asited  Abraham  to  enter  into  covenant  with  him: 
for  he  had  observed  that  God  was  with  him  in  all  that  he  imder- 
took.     The  covenant  between  them  was  made  in  Beersheba  (8.) 

(1.)  From  Gen.  x.  9  it  would  appear  that  Gerar  was  not  far 
from  Gaza,  and  from  ch.  xxvi.  26  that  it  lay  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Beersheba.  But  as,  according  to  Gen,  xxvi.  23,  tliey 
went  up  from  Gerar  to  Beersheba,  we  shall  have  to  look  for  it 
between  Gaza  and  Beersheba,  on  a  site  nearer  to  the  seaboard 
than  the  latter  place.  This  quite  agrees  with  2  Clu^on.  xiv.  12, 
according  to  which  Gerar  lay  to  the  south-west  of  Judah,  and 
with  Gen.  xx.  1,  according  to  which  it  lay  between  Shiu-  (§  57, 
1)  and  Kadesh,  Roivland  has  lately  chscovered,  tln-ee  hours  to 
the  south-east  of  Gaza,  a  deep  and  broad  wady,  called  the  Jui'f- 
el  Gerar  {i.e.  the  river  Gerar.)  Somewhat  above  that  place,  and 
where  the  Wady  es-Sheriah  debouches,  traces  of  an  ancient  city 
were  also  discovered,  bearing  the  name  Khibet  el-Gerar  (comp. 
K.  Hitter  Geo.  xiv.  p.  1084,  &c.) 

(2.)  On  the  conduct  of  Abraham,  comp.  our  remarks  §  52,  2 ; 
see  also  the  note  preceding  it  as  to  the  doubts  thrown  on  the  his- 
torical character  of  this  event  on  account  of  the  age  of  Sarah. 
In  the  present  instance  this  difficulty  is  somewhat  increased,  as 
since  her  ah  sit  to  Egypt  twenty-three  or  twenty-foiu-  years  had 
passed  over  Sarah,  and,  according  to  chap,  xviii.  11,  it  was  no 
longer  with  her  after  the  manner  of  women.  We  cannot  get 
over  this  difficulty  by  supposing  with  Drechsler  (Genuineness  of 
Genesis,  p.  222)  that  in  this  case  as  in  others  the  love  of  change, 
or  a  freak  of  oddity,  should  have  inflamed  the  lusts  of  a  royal 
debauchee.  For,  neither  does  the  text  represent  Abimelech  as  a 
"  brutal"  debauchee,  nor  do  we  imagine,  even  had  he  been  such, 
would  his  lust  have  been  excited  by  a  woman  ninety  years  of 
age,  at  least  if  her  appearance  was  similar  to  that  of  an  European 
at  that  period  of  life.  But  the  matter  admits  of  ready  explana- 
tion. Since  the  visit  of  tlie  angels  in  Mamre  when  Sarah  was 
set  apart  to  become  a  mother,  and  through  the  creative  agency 
of  God  rendered  capable  of  it,  her  youth  and  beauty  had  returned. 
If  she  was  to  conceive  and  become  mother,  her  youth  must  have 
been  renewed  ;  tliis  new  life  would  manifest  itself  in  her  appear- 
ance, and  lend  it  fresh  beauty  and  new  charms. 

(3.)  God  designates  Abraham  as  a  trophet.      Comparing 


ABRAHAM  AND  ABIMELECH.    (§  63.)  251 

merely  the  natural  position  of  Abraham  in  this  transaction  with 
that  of  Abimelech,  the  Patriarch  would  have  appeared  under 
great  disadvantage,  and  therefore  God  points  out  that  by  grace 
and  calling  he  occupied  another  and  a  much  higher  place,  from 
which  he  was  not  removed  even  when,  through  the  weakness  of 
liis  nature,  he  lost  so  much  of  his  personal  dignity.  With 
Abimelech  God  holds  intercourse  only  by  a  dream ;  l:)ut  Abraham 
is  the  friend  of  God.  To  him  He  confides  His  council,  into  his 
mouth  He  j3uts  His  words ;  Abraham  acts  as  mediator  for  the 
nations,  and  even,  while  Abimelech  stands  so  much  higher  than 
tlie  Patriarch  in  point  of  natural  dignity  and  moral  strength,  the 
latter  has  to  intercede  for  him,  that  the  sin,  of  which  "\\dthout 
knowing  its  full  extent  he  had  become  guilty,  might  be  forgiven, 
and  that  the  plague,  with  which  he  and  his  household  had  been 
afflicted,  might  bo  removed. 

(4.)  For  an  explanation  of  the  difficult  expression  in  ver.  16, 
D^i^J^  n^D3'  ^®  refer  to  the  Commentaries.  Comp.  also  Larsoiv 
Survey  of  Genesis,  p.  107,  and  Ewald's  Grammar,  p.  242,  note. 

(5.)  Abraham  declares  that  Sarah  was  indeed  his  sistek, 
being  the  daughter  of  his  father,  but  not  of  his  mother.  It  is 
remarkable  that  the  genealogy  of  Terah  (chap.  xi.  27)  does  not 
contain  any  mention  of  the  name  of  Sarah.  It  has  therefore 
been  suggested  that  Iscah,  the  daughter  of  Haran  (chap.  xi.  29), 
was  the  same  as  Sarah.  Josephus  (Antiq.  i.  6,  5)  already  adopts 
this  view,  which  is  also  preserved  in  Arabic  tradition  (AbuJfeda 
Historia  anteisl.  ed.  Fleischer  p.  20.)  In  that  case  the  word 
sister  would,  as  in  other  analogous  instances,  be  employed  in  a 
wider  sense,  and  Iscah  would  have  obtained  the  name  Sarai  = 
the  Princess,  on  the  occasion  of  her  marriage  with  Abraham,  the 
first  born  son  of  Terah,  and  the  chief  of  his  family. 

(6.)  According  to  verse  17,  "  God  healed  Abimelech,  and  his 
wife,  and  his  concubines,  that  they  bare  children."  This  expres- 
sion has  been  frequently  understood  as  implpng  that  the  injury 
done  to  Abraham  had  been  punished  by  rendering  the  wives  of 
Abimelech  barren.  As  in  that  case  it  is  conjectured  that  at 
least  two  or  tlu-ee  years  must  have  elapsed  before  this  barrenness 
could  have  been  observed,  it  is  concluded  that  this  section  must 
be  out  of  its  proper  place,  as,  according  to  chap.  xvii.  18,  "  Sarah 
was  to  bear  a  son  ivithin  the  year,"  and  according  to  chap.  xxi. 
she  actually  gave  birth  to  Isaac.  But  the  circumstance  that 
Abimelech  lumself  had  to  be  healed  (comp.  also  verse  6)  shews 
that  the  jiunislmient  was  not  what  is  supposed  by  some.  We 
conceive  that  it  consisted  in  an  "  impotentia  copulae"  from  dis- 
ease on  the  part  of  both  Abimelech  and  his  -wives,  and  which 
therefore  implied  also  barrenness.  Some  such  plague  must  have 
sliewn  itself  during  the  first  days  of  Sarah's  sojourn  in  the  harem. 


252  ABRAHAM.    (§  G3.) 

Tuch  and  others  understand  the  expression  to  refer  to  some 
weakness  in  the  pangs  of  birth,  on  account  of  which  the  wives  of 
Abimelech  could  not  bring  forth  their  childi'en,  in  which  case  it 
would  not  be  necessary  to  suppose  that  Sarah  had  remained  for 
any  length  of  time  in  the  king's  harem.  But  many  reasons 
might  be  urged  against  this  suggestion.  In  the  text  we  read  of 
the  conjugal  connection  in  the  family  of  Abimelech,  but  it  is  not 
^dewed  as  for  tlie  purpose  of  tlie  gratification  of  lust,  but  for  that 
of  obtaining  cliildi-en,  and  hence  the  latter  is  prominently  brought 
forward  as  the  result  of  the  removal  of  the  plague. 

(7.)  Baumgarten  rightly  remarlvs,  "that  Abimelech  should 
have  taken  with  him  his  chief  captain,  shews  that  he  had  not  a 
private,  but  a  public  transaction  in  view."  The  same  names 
occur  again  in  Gen.  xxvi.  6  (comp.  §  71,  1.) 

(8.)  In  entering  into  this  covenant,  Abraham  set  seven 
ewe  lambs  by  themselves  as  a  symbol  of  the  covenant  to  which 
they  had  sworn.  It  is  not  said  that  they  were  offered  in  sacrifice, 
but  this  seems  probable  from  the  practice  connnon  at  that  time 
in  making  covenants,  and  from  the  peculiar  expression  used  in 
V.  27. 

Seven  is  the  number  indicating  the  covenant,  and  hence  also 
an  oatli  (comp.  Bdhr,  Symbolic  i.  187,  &c.,  and  the  writer's 
Essay  on  the  Symbolical  imj^ort  of  numbers  in  the  "  Stud.  u. 
Krit.,"  for  1844,  pp.  346  to  352.)  The  text  connects  the  name 
of  the  place  with  the  transaction  which  then  took  place.  Tuch 
is  right  in  stating  that  the  name  Beersheba  means  in  the  first 
place  "  seven  wells,"  and  not  "  well  of  the  oath."  But  this  ad- 
mission proves  nothing  either  for  his  or  our  view  of  the  text.  It 
must  also  be  remembered  that  in  making  this  covenant  Abraham 
claimed  a  ivell,  which  he  had  digged,  but  wliich  the  subjects  of 
Abimelech  had  violently  taken  from  him.  The  situation  of 
Beersheba,  a  town  of  great  importance,  not  only  as  being  the 
southern  boundary  of  Palestine,  but  also  I'rom  the  recollections 
which  from  the  time  of  the  patriarchs  were  connected  with  it, 
has  been  accurately  indicated  by  Robinson,  who,  after  the  lapse 
of  centuries,  was  the  first  again  to  visit  its  site.  He  describes 
the  ascent  from  the  wilderness  as  follows  (vol.  i.  p.  203) : — "  Our 
road  thus  far  had  been  among  swelling  hills  of  moderate  height. 
We  now  began  gradually  to  ascend  others  higher,  but  of  the 
same  general  character.  .  .  We  reached  the  top  .  .  and 
looked  out  before  us,  over  a  broad  lower  tract ;  beyond  which  our 
eyes  were  greeted  with  the  first  sight  of  the  mountains  of  Judah, 
south  of  Hebron,  which  skirted  the  open  country  and  bounded 
the  horizon  in  the  east  and  north-east.  We  now  felt  that  the 
desert  was  at  an  end.  .  .  In  an  hour  and  a  half  we  reached 
Wady  es-Seba,  a  wide  water  course  or  bed  of  a  toiTent.     .     .     . 


ISAAC  IS  BORN.    ISHMAEL  IS  CAST  FORTH.    (§  64.)  253 

Upon  its  northern  side,  close  upon  the  bank,  are  two  deep  wells, 
Btill  called  Bir  es-Seba,  the  ancient  JBeersheha.  We  had  entered 
the  borders  of  Palestine.  .  .  .  Ascending  the  low  hills  north 
of  the  wells,  we  found  them  covered  with  tlie  ruins  of  former 
habitations,  the  foundations  of  which  are  distinctly  to  be  traced, 
although  not  one  stone  remains  upon  another."  According  to  the 
interpretation  of  Hitzuj  the  name  Beersheba  would  mean,  "the 
well  of  the  camel,  which  can  bear  thirst  for  seven  days"  (see 
Orig.  Hist,  of  the  Pliilist.  p.  109.) 


ISAAC  IS  BORN.      ISHMAEL  IS  CAST  FORTH. 

§  64.  (Gen.  xxi.  1  to  21.) — At  Beersheba,  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  which  Abraham  sojourned  for  a  long  time,  Sarah  gave 
birth  to  the  long-expected  son  of  promise  (1)  (in  the  one  hun- 
dredth year  of  Abraham's,  and  in  the  ninetieth  of  her  own  hfe.) 
Abraham  called  the  name  of  liis  son  Isaac  (2),  and  circumcised 
him  on  the  eighth  day.  At  the  feast  made  when  Isaac  was 
weaned  (3)  Sarah  demanded  that  Ishmael,  who  had  mocked, 
should  be  cast  out  with  his  mother.  Abraham  was  unwilling  to 
comply,  but  God  commanded  him  to  do  so,  and,  to  make  his 
obedience  the  more  easy.  He  added  the  promise  that  of  the  son 
of  the  bond-woman  also  He  would  make  a  great  nation,  because 
he  was  the  seed  of  Abraham.  The  Patriarch  now  obeys,  and 
sends  away  Hagar  with  her  son  (4.)  They  depart  towards  Egypt, 
but,  on  her  journey  thi'ough  the  wilderness  which  commenced 
near  Beersheba,  Hagar  loses  her  way.  The  angel  of  the  Lord 
preserves  Hagar  and  her  child  from  perishing  by  thirst.  Ishmael 
grows  up  in  the  wilderness  of  Paran  (5),  and  becomes  the 
powerful  ancestor  of  twelve  Arab  tribes. 

(1.)  The  Birth  of  Isaac  is  the  first  result  of  the  covenant, 
and  the  first  step  towards  its  goal.  But  if  the  development  is 
to  make  organic  progress,  its  commencement  must  already  con- 
tain in  germ  what  shall  fully  a])pear  at  its  close.  Hence,  with 
the  birth  of  Isaac,  the  promise  "  in  thy  seed  shall  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth  be  blessed"  commences  to  unfold,  and  to  tend  to- 
wards its  fullest  realization.  In  truth,  Isaac  himself  is  that  seed, 
and  his  birth  is  an  implicit  but  practical  pledge  on  the  part  of 
God  that  the  salvation  of  the  world  shall  be  accomplished.  The 
further  increase  of  Isaac  farther  unfolds  that  salvation,  and  the 


254  ABRAHAM.    (§  64.) 

goal  ot  this  development  constitutes  also  the  attainment  of  the 
great  salvation.  Tliis  development  is  carried  on  by  means  of 
generation,  which  is,  therefore,  sanctified  within  the  bounds  of 
the  covenant.  So  long  as  Abraham  was  imcirciimcised,  he  was 
not  to  beget  Isaac,  thus  indicating  that  the  goal  was  not  to  be 
attained  hj  merely  natiural  generation.  But  the  generic,  not  the 
individual,  development  of  Isaac  will  lead  to  the  goal.  Genera- 
tion is  to  continue  subservient  to  covenant  pm'poses  until  the 
seed  of  promise  has  passed  through  the  preparatory  process,  and 
attained  the  maturity  necessary  for  being  capable  of  presenting 
salvation  in  its  fulness.  Hence,  Isaac  and  all  liis  seed  after  him 
must  be  circumcised,  until,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  the  develop- 
ment of  the  seed  of  promise  which  had  been  aimed  after,  has 
been  fully  attained.  Then  the  purpose  of  circumcision  has  been 
exhausted  and  fulfilled,  and  its  further  continuance  is  super- 
fluous. With  Isaac  commences  therefore  a  series,  of  which,  at 
that  time,  the  termination  was  not  yet  in  sight.  But  from  the 
first  the  goal  was  clearly  indicated,  and  the  commencement  is 
itself  a  guarantee  that  that  goal  shall  ultimately  be  reached. 
For  the  generation  of  Isaac  was  not  Kara  (pvatv,  but  irapa 
4>v(Tiv,  not  by  human  strength  left  to  itself,  but  by  the  co-opera- 
tion of  creative  omnipotence,  and  in  accordance  with  the  promise 
of  the  covenant.  Again,  the  commencement  is  not  merely  a 
guarantee  but  also  a  typical  representation  and  a  pre-formation 
of  the  end,  as  the  tendency  at  work,  the  life-power,  in  \drtue  of 
which  the  course  of  development  will  be  continued  and  carried 
on  to  the  end,  must  manifest  itself  from  the  first,  and  impress 
upon  the  commencement  of  the  development  its  peculiar  stamp, 
and  thus,  from  the  first,  have  exhibited  its  distinguishing  charac- 
teristics. If  the  entire  development  of  the  covenant  could  only 
be  brought  about  by  a  special  and  powerful  Divine  co-operation 
— if,  more  especially,  the  goal  could  only  be  attained  by  the 
highest  manifestation  of  this  Divine  co-operation,  the  commence- 
ment also  must  have  been  irapa  (pvcnv.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
the  commencement  was  Trapa  ^vaiv,  we  are  warranted  in  expect- 
ing and  inferring  that  the  goal  towards  wliich  that  commence- 
ment tends  shall  likevdse  be  irapa  ^vaiv. 

(2.)  The  NAME  given  to  the  son  of  promise  points  to  the  con- 
trast between  the  idea  and  the  reality ;  to  the  promise  of  God 
and  the  Divine  guarantee  of  its  fulfilment  on  the  one  hand,  and 
on  the  other  to  the  incapabihty  of  Abraham  and  of  Sarah  for 
generation,  and  to  the  physical  impossibility  that  the  promise 
should  become  true,  resulting  from  this  circumstance.  When  by 
the  birth  of  a  son  this  contradiction  has  been  removed,  a  new 
and  no  less  decided  contrast  appears  between  the  inexhaustible 
fulness  of  blessing  for  all  nations  of  the  earth  wliicli  the  promise 


ISAAC  IS  BORN.    ISHMAEL  IS  CAST  FORTH.    (§  64.)  255 

had  attached  to  this  son,  and  the  weakness  and  poverty  of  the 
chikl  which  had  just  come  into  the  world,  feeble  and  helpless 
like  other  children.  The  former  contrast  had  caused  the  laugh- 
ter of  Abraham  and  Sarah — the  latter  that  of  Ishmael,  In 
Abraham  the  hmghter  was  that  of  joy  and  hope,  inspired  by 
faith  (chap.  xvii.  17.)  When  the  announcement  was  first  made 
to  Sarah,  she  laughed,  while  thinking  of  a  contrast  which,  to  all 
appearance,  coidd  not  be  removed  (chap,  xviii.  12)  ;  and  after 
the  birth  of  a  son,  she  exclaims,  in  the  happy  consciousness  that 
the  promised  event  had  now  really  taken  place  (chap.  xxi.  6)  : 
"  God  hath  made  me  to  laugh,  so  that  all  that  hear  will  laugh 
with  me."  Again,  when  Isaac  is  weaned,  Ishmael  laughs,  mock- 
ing the  weak  babe,  about  whom  his  parents  make  so  much  work, 
and  with  whom  they  connect  such  exceeding  hopes  (chap.  xxi. 
9.)  In  each  case  the  laughing  is  not  accidental  nor  unimportant ; 
it  stands  in  connection  with  the  central  point  of  these  occur- 
rences, and  indicates  the  relation  wliich  each  of  these  persons 
occupied  towards  the  great  event.  Comp.  also  Hengstenherg's 
Contrib.  ii.,  p.  275,  and  Drechsler,  Unity  and  Genuineness  of 
Genesis,  p.  214,  &c. 

(3.)  It  is  impossible  definitely  to  ascertain  the  exact  time  when 
Isaac  was  weaned.  From  2  Mace.  vii.  27 ;  from  1  Sam.  i.  23, 24 ; 
and  from  Joseph.  Ant.  ii.  9,  6,  it  has  been  inferred  that  among 
the  Hebrews  suckling  was  continued  for  so  long  a  period  as  three 
years.  To  this  Tiele  and  Baumgarten  reply  that  the  cases  there 
mentioned  were  extraordinary,  but  then  the  same  remark  applies 
to  Sarah.  Generally  the  youngest  childi-en  were  weaned  at  a 
later  period  than  others.  The  point  is  only  of  importance  in 
order  to  determine  the  age  of  Ishmael  when  cast  forth.  Baum- 
garten rightly  ol)serves  that  "  weaning  is  the  first  step  in  the 
direction  of  independent  existence,  it  was  therefore  solemnised 
by  a  feast ;"  and  we  add,  it  was  therefore  at  that  time  also  that 
Sarah  demanded  that  Ishmael  should  be  cast  forth. 

(4.)  Ishmael  was  at  least  fifteen  years  old  when  he  was  cast 
forth.  He  was  thirteen  years  of  age  when  circumcised  (chap, 
xvii.  25.)  A  year  passed  before  Isaac  was  born  (chap.  x\'ii.  21, 
xviii.  10)  ;  and  at  least  another  year  must  have  passed  before 
Isaac  was  weaned.  This  might  indeed  appear  inconsistent,  if,  as 
Tuch  maintains,  p.  382,  the  narrative  represented  Ishmael  as  a 
little  child  wliich  had  still  to  be  carried  in  its  mother's  arms. 
Tuch  supports  his  statement  by  the  following  three  reasons: — 1. 
In  verse  14,  Abraham  is  said  to  put  on  the  shoulder  of  Hagar  pro- 
visions "  and  the  child."'  The  LXX.  indeed  translate  this  eka^ev 
apTOu<i  Kal  acTKov  v8aT0<i  Kal  e'^w/ce  t?;  "Ajap  kul  iireOrjKev  eVt  tov 
atfiov  avTrjf  to  iraiSiov,  and  7\ich  agrees  with  them.  But,  lite- 
rally translated,  the  words  of  the  text  are  as  follows  : — "  Abraham 


256  ABHAHAM.    (§  64.) 

took  bread  and  a  bottle  of  water,  and  gave  it  to  Hagar,  putting 
it  on  her  shoulder,  and  the  child,  and  sent  her  away."  The  posi- 
tion of  the  words  shews  beyond  controversy  that  the  writer  only 
meant  that  the  bread  and  the  water  were  put  on  her  shoulder, 
and  not  the  child.  2.  In  verse  15,  &c.,  we  read  that  Hagar  had 
cast  "  the  weeping  child"  under  one  of  the  shrubs.  But  this  de- 
scription, it  is  argued,  implies  that  the  "  child  was  very  young," 
and  had  to  be  carried  or  led  by  the  hand  (v.  18.)  In  this  in- 
stance also  Tuch  seems  to  have  followed  the  LXX.,  who,  with- 
out any  warrant  in  the  text,  render  v.  16  by  way  of  painting  the 
scene  in  language  sufficiently  dolorous  and  pitiable  :  avajBorjcrav 
8e  TO  irathiov  eicXavaev.  But  in  the  original  we  do  not  read  that 
the  child  had  tvept,  although  it  is  distinctly  said  that  she  (Hagar) 
lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept.  Manifestly  the  narrative,  bearing 
in  this  the  impress  of  truth,  represents  the  lad  as  so  worn  out 
with  tliirst  that  he  is  not  able  even  to  cry,  while  the  mother  is 
stronger,  and  at  least  capable  of  weeping,  and  of  escaping  from 
the  sight  of  her  suffering  child.  Bat  it  is  well  known  that  woman 
is  much  more  capable  of  bearing  such  difficulties  and  privations, 
and  that  she  does  not  so  rapidly  sink  under  them,  as  man,  far 
less  as  a  lad  of  fifteen  years  of  age  would  do.  That  she  cast 
the  lad  under  one  of  the  shrubs  does  not  prove  that  he  was  a 
mere  child,  but  only  that  he  was  so  worn  out  as  no  longer  to  be 
able  to  walk  without  support,  and  hence  that  his  mother  had 
ahnost  to  carry  and  to  lay  him  down.  Again,  the  express  state- 
ment that  after  he  had  been  refreshed  by  drinking  from  the 
spring,  Hagar  led  the  lad,  who  must  still  have  been  exhausted, 
by  the  hand,  proves  that  he  could  not  have  been  a  child,  as  else 
he  would  have  had  to  be  carried.  3.  It  is  inferred  that  Ishmael 
was  not  grown  up,  because  we  read  in  verses  20  and  21,  that 
when  he  was  grown  up  he  became  an  expert  archer,  and  took  a 
wife  from  Egypt.  But  this  inference  makes  no  account  of  the 
possibility  that  Ishmael  may  not  have  been  full  grown  when  in 
his  fifteenth  year.  Tuch  has  also  overlooked  the  account  in  verse 
9,  where  Ishmael  is  represented  as  mocking.  This  expression 
would  rather  lead  us  to  infer  that  he  was  a  rude,  rough  lad  of 
fifteen,  and  not  a  child  of  two  or  three  years.  Nor  is  it  possible  to 
convert  the  expressions  used  in  that  verse  as  referring  to  "  mere 
childish  joTies."  It  is  weU  known  that  the  Piel  always  implies 
intense  or  reiterated  action.  The  word  there  used  can  therefore 
only  be  translated  by  "  mocldng  much,  or  frequently  mocking." 
Besides,  the  meaning  intended  to  be  conveyed,  and  the  whole 
context,  are  against  the  rendering  of  Tiich.  Manifestly  the  state- 
ment, "  Sarah  saw  the  son  of  Hagar  mocking  (that  he  was  a 
mocker) ,"  is  meant  to  indicate  the  reason  which  induced  her  to 
demand  at  that  very  time  that  Ishmael  should  be  cast  out.     If 


ISAAC  IS  BORN.    ISHMAEL  IS  CAST  FORTH.    (§  G4.)  257 

SO,  how  would  this  agree  withtlie  theory  of  "  childisli  and  harm- 
less jokiiio;  ?■'  The  casting  forth  of  I.shmael  was  for  the  purpose 
of  separating  him  from  the  chosen  family,  and  from  its  calling. 
Inwardly  he  had  already  separated  himself,  and  his  external 
separation  was  only  a  necessary  consequence.  Had  Ishmael  re- 
mained a  member  of  the  household  of  Aljraham,  he  could  not 
have  fulfilled  the  destiny  towards  which  his  natural  disposition, 
his  o\vn  choice,  and  the  blessing  of  God  pointed.  On  the  other 
hand,  had  he  remained  with  the  chosen  iamily  for  a  longer  time, 
his  presence  would  have  interfered  with  its  peculiar  development. 
That  this  separation  took  place  in  the  manner  in  which  the  narra- 
tive records  it,  was  no  doubt  meant  for  the  instruction  of  Abraham 
rather  than  for  the  sake  of  Ishmael  (^r  of  Hagar.  Abraham  was 
to  learn  to  renounce  everything  for  the  Divine  calling  and  for  the 
promise — even  his  natural  paternal  affection.  In  this  manner 
was  he  to  reach  that  height  of  self-renunciation,  of  devotedness 
to  Grod,  and  of  faith,  which,  as  we  shall  by  and  bye  see,  he  at- 
tained. 31.  Baumgarten  (1.  c.)  aptly  remarks — "Abraham  is 
to  renounce  his  natural  feelings,  and  to  comply  with  the  demand 
of  Sarah.  Accordingly  the  dismissal  of  Ishmael  takes  the  form 
of  casting  fortli ;  and  it  is  a  complete  misunderstanding  when  J. 
D.  Micliaelis  and  Tiel  adorn  the  scene,  and  depict  it  as  if  it  had 
been  an  affectionate  leave-taking.  Hagar  receives  only  a  piece 
of  bread  and  a  bottle  of  water  ;  neither  servant  nor  beast  of  bur- 
den accompany  her  (v.  14.)  Abraham  felt  the  more  able  to  use 
this  severity  that  he  had  received  a  promise  for  Ishmael,  which 
had  but  lately  been  reiterated.  This  was  sufficient  guarantee 
that  I.shmael  and  his  mother  would  not  be  allowed  to  perish  in 
the  wilderness.  Tliis  casting  forth  was  necessary,  in  order  dis- 
tinctly and  prominently  to  exhibit  the  all-important  difference 
between  the  child  of  grace  and  that  of  nature.  After  this  dif- 
ference had  been  fully  brought  out,  Ishmael  was  again  allowed 
to  approach  his  father,  and  to  share  in  his  wealth."  It  will 
be  noticed  that,  according  to  chap.  xxv.  6,  Abraham  gave 
rich  gifts  to  all  the  sons  of  his  concubines.  That  Islmiael  was 
included  among  them  may  the  more  certainly  be  inferred  that, 
according  to  chap.  xxv.  9,  Isaac  and  he  buried  their  father  in 
the  cave  of  Maci)helah. 

(5.)  On  the  tvilderness  of  Pauan,  which  must  be  sought  in 
the  north-eastern  part  of  Arabia  Petr^ea,  comp.  Winer  (s.  h.  v.)  ; 
Raumer  (Wandering  of  the  Israelites,  p.  37,  &c.)  ;  Rittcr  (Geo- 
graphy, vol.  xiv.,  p.  270.)  For  further  particulars,  we  refer  to 
vol.  ii.  of  the  present  work. 

(6.)  Even  before  Ishmael  was  born,  when  Hagar  of  her  own 
accord  fled  from  the  house  of  Abraham  (chap,  xvi.),  the  angel  of 
t  he  Lord  had  portrayed  the  future  diaracter  of  her  son  in  brief 

VOL.   I,  K 


'25S  ABRAHAM.    (§  65.) 

but  strong  outlines.  "  He  will  be  a  wild  man  (literally,  a  wild 
ass  of  a  man)  ;  his  hand  will  be  against  every  man,  and  every 
man's  hand  against  him  ;  and  he  shall  dwell  before  {i.e.,  to  the 
east  of — comp.  Bcmmgarten,  ad  Genesin,  xvi.  16)  all  his  breth- 
ren." And  to  this  day  Ms  descendants  are  like  their  ancestor. 
It  were  impossible  to  describe  more  accurately  than  in  these 
terms  the  unbridled  love  of  liberty,  and  the  wild  irregular  roam- 
ing of  the  Bedouin  Arabs,  characteristics  which  have  remained 
unchanged  for  the  last  thousands  of  years.  Comp.  J.  D. 
Micliaelis  Notes  for  the  Unlearned  on  Genesis  x\d.  10 ;  J.  P. 
Langes  Miscellaneous  Works,  i.,  p.  156,  &c.  Genesis  xxv.  12 
to  18  describes  the  further  course  by  which  the  descendants  of 
Ishmael  developed  into  a  nation.  Ishmael  died  at  the  age  of 
137  years.  His  descendants,  which,  even  at  the  time  of  Moses, 
had  organised  themselves  under  twelve  powerful  chieftains,  then 
lived  "  from  Havilah  unto  Shur,  east  of  Egypt,  as  thou  goest 
towards  Assjrria."  They  therefore  roamed  through  the  whole 
territory  from  the  wilderness  of  Egypt  to  the  steppes  of  the 
Euphrates. 


THE  OFFERING  UP  OF  ISAAC. 

§  ^5.  (Gen.  xxii.  1  to  19.) — During  the  long  sojourn  of  Abra- 
ham at  Beersheba,  the  son  of  promise  had  grown  up.  And  it 
came  to  pass  that  in  a  night  vision  the  patriarch  heard  the  voice 
of  God  tempting  him :  "  Take  now  thy  son,  thine  only  son,  whom 
thou  lovest,  and  get  thee  into  the  land  of  Moriah,  and  offer  him 
there  for  a  hwnt-offering  upon  one  of  the  mountains  which  I 
will  tell  thee  of."  Tliis  was  the  climax  of  all  the  trials  and  lead- 
ings in  the  life  of  Abraham.  He  had  first  been  called  to  give 
up  his  country  and  his  friends ;  he  had  next  learned,  in  the  son 
of  his  hand-maid,  who  was  only  the  son  of  nature  and  of  the 
flesh,  to  surrender  to  faith  his  natural  paternal  affection ;  he  is 
now  sufficiently  prepared  for  the  greatest  and  most  difficidt  of 
all  his  trials  ;  he  is  to  tear  the  son  of  promise  from  his  natural 
heart,  and  to  cast  him  forth,  and  that  not  only  like  Ishmael  from 
liis  house,  but  wholly  from  the  land  of  the  living  ;  nor  has  he 
now  the  consolation  of  a  Divine  promise  such  as  was  granted  him 
when  Ishmael  was  cast  forth.  But  in  this  case  also  does  the  hero 
of  faith  triumph  through  faith  over  all  the  perplexities  and  doubts 
which  flesh  and  blood  must  have  suggested.     Early  in  the  morn- 


THE  OFFERING  UP  OF  ISAAC,    (§  fJ5.)  259 

iiig  he  takes  tlie  lad  and  two  servants,  and  goes  unto  tlie  place 
of  which  G-od  had  told  him.     On  the  third  day,  lie  reaches  his 
destination.     At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  Abraham  leaves  the 
servants.     "Abide  ye  here,"  he  says,  "I  and  the  lad  will  go 
yonder,  and  when  we  have  worshipped,  will  come  again  to  you." 
Isaac  himself  carried  the  wood  for  the  burnt-oifering,  Abraham 
the  fire  and  the  knife — and  so  both  went  together.     In  child- 
like simplicity,  Isaac  enquires : — "  My  father  !  behold  the  fire 
and  the  wood,  but  where  is  the  lamb  for  a  burnt-offering?" 
This  question  must  have  entered  the  soul  of  the  father  like  a  two- 
edged  sword,  yet  he  calmly  replies — "  My  son,  God  will  provide 
himself  a  lamb  for  a  burnt-oflPering."     The  conviction  that  this 
was  to  be  emphatically  the  work  of  God  filled  the  son  with  peace, 
and  sustained  the  father  under  his  heavy  trial — and  so  both  went 
together.     On  the  mountain  Abraham  built  an  altar,  and  bound 
his  son  upon  the  wood.     Already  he  had  taken  up  the  sacrificial 
knife,  wlien  the  angel  of  the  Lord  stayed  his  hand,  calling  unto 
him  from  heaven — "  Lay  not  thine  hand  upon  the  lad,  neither 
do  him  any  harm,  for  now  I  know  that  thou  fearest  God,  seeing 
that  thou  hast  not  withheld  thine  own  son  from  me."     And  be- 
hold, behind  him  was  a  ram  caught  by  his  horns  in  a  thicket ; 
and  Abraham  offered  him  up  in  the  stead  of  his  son.     Then  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  again  repeated  the  former  promises  granted  to 
Abraham,  but  with  more  fulness  and  particularity  than  ever  be- 
fore, and  confirmed  them  with  an  oath.     Afterwards  Abraham 
returned  with  his  son  to  Beersheba. 

(1.)  It  is  impossible  accurately  to  fix  the  time  when  this  event 
took  place.  The  circumstance  that  Isaac  carried  the  wood  for 
the  sacrifice  shews  that  he  could  not  have  been  a  mere  child. 
But  the  general  cast  of  the  narrative  is  opposed  1o  the  statement 
of  Josephus,  Antiq.  i.  14,  according  to  wjiom  he  was  twenty-five 
years  old,  and  to  that  of  the  Kabbins,  who  malce  him  even  older. 
In  order  to  understand  the  narrative,  it  is  necessary  carefuUy  to 
examine  all  its  relations,  and  to  view  the  event  not  only  in  its 
subjective  but  in  its  objective  bearing.  Comp.  Hdvernick, 
Introd.  i.  2,  p.  337,  &c. 

Tliose  critics  who  reject  the  historical  authority  of  the  Pen- 
tateuch, and  suppose  that  Jud.iism,  during  the  times  of  the 
Pi-opliets,  gradually  evolved  from  the  Avorship  of  nature,  infer, 
from  this  narrative,  that  the  religion  of  Jehovah  had  originally 

R  2 


260  ABRAHAM.    (§  65.) 

occupied  the  same  level  as  the  se7'vice  of  Moloch  ( VatJce,  Bib. 
Theol.  i.  p.  276.)  V.  Bohlen  expresses  it  as  liis  opinion  (Comni. 
p.  231,  &c.)  that  in  its  original  form  the  narrative  had  borne 
that  Isaac  had  really  been  oifered  up  in  sacrifice.  This  prepos- 
terous idea  has  been  carried  out  by  G.  Fr.  Daumer  (The  Fire- 
and  Moloch-worship  of  the  ancient  Hebrews,  Braunschweig 
1842,  pp.  34,  &c.)  with  a  degree  of  presumption  and  coarseness 
hitherto  unknown  in  tliis  branch  of  literature.^  Winey^  (Real 
Lexicon  i.,  16,  &c.,  2d  ed.)  more  cautiously  suggests  that  the 
custom  of  sacrificing  children,  derived  from  the  Phoenician  tribes, 
was  the  occasion  of  Abraham's  attempted  sacrifice.  Accorchng 
to  that  author,  the  narrative  intends  to  display  the  pious  resig- 
nation and  the  active  faith  of  Abraham  in  their  highest  form, 
and,  at  the  sametime,  to  express  the  divine  prohibition  of  human 
sacrifices.  Similarly  Bertlieau  remarks  (p.  224,  &c.),  "that 
Abraham  could  have  received  such  a  commandment  presupposes 
that  his  consciousness  of  God  had  become  dim,  and  is  explained 
by  the  influence  of  a  custom  -svidely  spread  among  the  suiTound- 
ing  tribes,  and  by  the  power  of  habit  .  .  In  his  willingness 
to  ofter  up  that  which  is  dearest  to  liim,  he  is  not  a  wliit  behind 
the  Canaanites.  But,  at  the  moment  when  he  is  about  to  ofier 
up  the  sacrifice,  he  obtains  by  revelation  the  assurance  that  his 
god  would  not  accept  the  sacrifice  of  a  child.  .  .  Hence,  the 
narrative  imphes  that  Abraham  was  aware  of  the  objectionable- 

1  We  subjoin  the  following  as  a  specimen  of  the  cleverness  of  Daumer : 
"  If  people  were  not  accustomed  to  be  pm-blind  on  such  subjects,  this  sacrifice 
of  his  child  on  the  part  of  Abraham  (although,  according  to  the  text  in  its 
present  form,  it  had  not  been  completed)  might  have  served  to  enUghten 
readers  on  the  subject," — a  j-esult  this  reserved  for  the  wisdom  of  G.  Fr. 
Daumer.  A  ccordingly  he  informs  us  that,  from  a  statement  of  Sanclmv iatlion 
(Eusebius  preparatio  1.  i.),  we  gather  that  the  tradition  of  Abraham's  worship 
and  sacrifice  of  his  child  was  not  completely  related  in  Genesis.  According 
to  Sanchuniathon,  Chronos,  whom  the  Phoenicians  called  Israel,  had  during 
the  prevalence  of  a  plague  ofiered  up  his  only  real  son  to  his  father  Uranos, 
then  undergone  circumcision,  and  obliged  his  followers  to  do  the  same. 
"  Abraham  was  a  worshipper  of  Moloch,  a  fanatic  of  the  first  kind ;  hence  he 
occupied  so  high  a  place  among  the  Moloch-serving  descendants  of  Shem ; 
hence  also  the  reforming  pseudo-Isaiah  (chap,  xliii.  27),  who  appears  to  have 
possessed  a  more  complete  tradition  about  Abraham,  reproaches  his  cotem- 
poraries  with  the  sin  of  their  first  ancestor."  Again,  while  in  the  narrative 
lianded  down  to  us  Abraham  appears  as  an  old  man,  childless  on  account  of 
the  barrenness  of  his  wife,  the  older  and  the  more  accurate  narrative  (which 
of  course  exists  merely  in  the  bright  imagination  o? Daumer)  only  represents 
him  as  childless  because  he  had  sacrificed  all  the  children  of  his  marriage  to 
Moloch- Jehovah.  And  from  that  time  till  the  events  enacted  at  Damascus  in 
1840  the  history  of  the  Jews  presents,  according  to  Daumer,  a  continuous 
series  of  innumerable  sacrifices  of  children  and  of  men,  all  of  whom  were 
offered  up  to  their  dark  and  cruel  idol  Moloch- Jehovah.  The  explanation  of 
Ghillany  (1.  c.  p.  GOO,  &c.)  in  the  main  agrees  with  the  above,  although  it  is 
not  quite  so  coarse  and  silly. 


THE  OFFEIIINQ  UP  OF  ISAAC.    (§  65.)  261 

ness  of  human  sacrifices  .  .  .  and  that,  in  consequence,  he^ 
came  to  occupy  a  position  of  direct  antagonism  to  the  idolatry  of 
the  Canaanites."  We  vshall  find  that  this  explanation  closely 
approaches  the  truth,  only  that  it  wholly  ignores  the  reahty  and 
the  meaning  of  the  introductory  words  :  "  6rO(i  tempted  Abraham, 
and  said  unto  him." 

Hengstcnherg  (Contrib.  iii.,  pp.  145,  &c.)  holds  that  a  divine 
command  to  olfer  a  sacrifice  had,  indeed,  been  issued,  but  that 
Abraham  had  misunderstood  its  imjiort.      The  import  of  the 
temptation  had  lain  in  this,  to  determine  in  what  sense  God 
demanded  the  sacrifice  of  man  (1  Sam.  i.,  25.)     The  same  view 
is  advocated  by  Lange  (Life  of  Jesus,  i.,  p.  120)  :   "■  Jelwvah 
commanded  Abraham  to  offer  up  Isa^ac.     The  patriarch  sub- 
mitted, but  in  the  decisive  moment  understood  the  commanthnent 
as  if  Moloch  had  enjoined  him  to  slay  Isaac.     Then  Jehovah 
interposed,  praised  the  obedience  of  the  patriarch,  but  corrected 
his  error,  and  showed  him  the  difterence  between  death  and  sm- 
render,  by  calling  on  him  to  slay  the  ram,  in  token  that  he  had 
given  over  and  offered  up  his  son.     Both  by  the  vigour  with 
which  Abraham  complied  with  the  command  of  God  enjoining 
the  sacrifice,  and  by  the  clearness  with  which  he  understood  the 
voice  of  God  explaining  the  sacrifice,  the  patriarch  shewed  that 
he  was  the  chosen  one  whom  Jehovah  would  employ  for  founding 
a  theocracy  in  wliich  all  human  life  should  be  ofiered  up  to  him, 
and  yet  no  human  life  should  be  taken  away  in  the  exercise  of 
pretended  but  iniquitous  priestly  functions."    AU  tliis  is  very  fine, 
and  in  part  very  true.     But  it  is  manifestly  erroneous  to  say  that 
Abraham  had  misunderstood  and   mistaken  the  command  of 
God.     Every  expression  in  the  divine  command  runs  contrary 
to  this  view,  and  shews  that  it  was  not  Abraham's  exegesis  but 
that  of  the  Christian  interpreters  of  the  19th  century  which  is  at 
fault.     If  Abraham  sh  ould  and  could  have  understood  the  demand 
of  Jehovah  as  merely  implying  an  ideal  though  real  surrender  of 
Isaac,  it  would  have  been  equally  useless  and  confusing  t(^  have 
ordered  him  to  take  Isaac  to  go  icith.  him  to  a  mountain  in  the 
land  of  Moriah,  and  tliere  to  offer  him  up  as  a  huriit-offering. 
If  it  had  been  the  intention  of  the  writer  to  make  a  distinction 
between  the  knowledge  and  the  intention  of  Abraham,  and  tu 
characterise  the  one  as  false  and  the  other  as  proper,  it  would 
somehow  or  other  have  appeared  in  the  narrative  itself     But  of 
this  we  do  not  discover  a  trace.     Had  Abraham's  understanding 
of  the  Divine  commnndment  been  as  opjiosed  to  it  as  his  inten- 
tion was  in  agreement  with  it,  God  would  have  reproved  the  one 
when  He  commended  the  other.     If  the  view  of  Lange  were 
correct,  the  only  alternative  left  to  us  were  to  assume  either  that 
God"  had  intentionally  couched  His  command  in  language  which 


2()2  ABRAHAM.    (§  65.) 

Abraham  could  not  but  misunderstand,  or  else,  as  this  would 
have  been  unworthy  of  God,  that  Abraham  might  have  correctly 
understood  it,  in  which  case  the  blame  of  the  misunderstanding- 
rests  with  the  patriarch.  But  what  would  have  taken  place  if 
Abraham  had  imderstood  it  correctly,  i.e.  according  to  the  view 
of  Lange  f  In  that  case  we  see  insuperable  difficulties ;  for  how 
and  IN  WHAT  MANNER  couM  OT  sJiouIcl  Abt^alicvm  have  carried 
out  such  a  command  f  J.  P.  Lange  (Positive  Dogmatics,  p.  823) 
very  naively  ignores  his  former  statement,  and  says  "  he  would 
have  done  so  in  the  very  ntianner  in  which  he  actually  carried  it 
out."  But  if  this  be  true,  wherein,  Ave  ask,  consisted  his  supposed 
mistake  ?  A  mere  abstract  frame  of  mind,  without  a  concrete 
and  actual  manifestation  of  it,  was  not  what  God  demanded ;  a 
deed,  a  striking  fact,  was  requisite.  We  therefore  maintain  that 
Abraham  had  rightly  understood  the  command  of  God,  and  that 
God  had  really  demanded  at  his  hand  the  slaying  of  Isaac. ^ 

At  the  same  time  we  must  alloAv  that  there  is  some  difficulty 
in  the  case,  considering  that  the  same  Jehovah  who  in  the  law 
(Lev.  xviii.  21,  xx.  1  to  5  ;  Deut.  xii.  31,  xviii.  10)  expresses  the 
utmost  abhorrence  of  human  sacrifices,  and  2^r oh ibifs  them  as  an 
abomination,  should,  in  this  instance.  Himself  com mcMicZ  a  human 
sacrifice.  The  solution  of  the  difficulty  lies  in  the  introductory 
statement  "  God  tempted  Abraham"  and  in  the  corresponding- 
issue  of  the  event,  when  God  interposed  in  the  decisive  moment 
and  gave  implicit  praise  to  Abraham  on  account  of  his  ready 
obedience.  God  tempted  Abraham  to  see  whether  his  faith  was 
capable  of  producing  the  self-renunciation,  the  obedience,  and 
the  trust  which  were  necessary  for  its  perfecting,  and  in  order  to 

1  In  the  work  to  which  we  have  referred  (p.  848,  &c.),  /.  P.  Lange  virges 
uo  less  than  nine  arguments  against  the  view  advocated  by  us,  which  he  is 
pleased  to  designate  as  the  common  view  of  ecclesiastical  schools.  We  will 
not  weary  the  reader  by  enumerating  and  refuting  them,  but  we  assure  them 
that  while  indeed  two  thirds  of  them  are  new  and  unrefuted,  they  do  not 
deserve  or  require  refutation.  The  ether  third  has  been  frequently  urged, 
and  as  frequently  refuted.  Only  the  fifth  objection  claims  not  an  answer  but 
a  reproof.  "  If  correct,  the  inference  that  God  may  in  vision  have  really 
addressed  such  commandments  to  individuals,  and  perhaps  have  allowed  them 
to  be  executed,  would  be  legitimate.  Without  doubt  this  misunderstanding  on 
the  part  of  theologians  is  in  part  the  cause  oj  the  extravagancies  which  in  this 
respect  have  occurred."  Alas  for  those  iniquitous  critics  who,  by  their  correct 
interpretations  of  Gen.  xxii.,  ai-e  to  blame  for  all  the  dreadful  misdeeds  of 
religious  fanaticism,  from  the  Christian  Fakirs  of  the  Egyptian  wilderness 
down  to  the  attempt  at  self-crucifixion,  which,  according  to  newspaper  reports, 
have  lately  been  made  in  a  German  University  town !  And  what  is  still 
more  dreadful,  among  these  guilty  critics  are  all  the  ecclesiastical  authorities 
from  the  oldest  to  the  present  time.  But  despite  all  these  dangers  we  can 
scarcely  think  it  the  duty  of  the  critic  to  interpret  away  everything,  which 
may  give  occasion  to  a  half  or  wholly  crazed  fanntic  for  introducing  abRurdi- 
tion  in  tho  name  of  religion. 


THE  OFFERING  Ul'  OF  ISAAC.    (§  65.)  263 

advance  his  faith  to  that  stage.  Hence,  ALraham  must  he  ready 
lor  the  Lord  to  sacrifice  even  that  which  is  nearest  and  dearest 
to  him,  more  dear  even  than  his  own  life.  It  is  true  that  God 
did  not  seek  the  slaying  of  Isaac  in  facto,  but  only  the  implicit 
sun^ender  of  the  lad,  in  mind  and  heart.  But  if  all  mental 
reservation,  every  refuge  tor  flesh  and  ])lood,  all  mere  appearance 
and  self-delusion  were  to  \ye  avoided,  this  surrender  could  oidy  be 
accomplished  in  the  shape  in  which  it  was  actually  required.  If 
it  was  to  ])e  wholly  an  act  of  faith  left  to  its  own  energies,  with- 
out any  other  point  of  support,  God  could  not  merely  ask  a 
mental  surrender,  but  must  have  demanded  an  actual  sacrifice. 
On  the  ijart  of  any  other  than  God  such  a  quid  jyro  quo  woidd 
have  been  a  dangerous  game.  Not  so  on  the  part  of  God,  who 
lield  the  issue  entirely  in  His  own  hand.  Wlien  Abraham  had, 
in  heart  and  mind,  completely  and  without  any  reserve,  offered 
up  his  son,  God  interposed  and  prevented  the  sacrifice  in  facto, 
which  was  no  longer  required  for  the  purpose  of  trial,  and  would 
indeed  have  completely  run  counter  to  it.  This  interposition  on 
the  part  of  God  forms  the  link  of  connection  between  the  com- 
mandment addressed  to  Abraham,  and  the  proliibition  addi'cssed 
to  his  posterity.  Implicitly,  it  already  contains  the  prohibition 
which  is  afterwards  explicitly  laid  down  in  the  law.  Hence,  the 
antagonism  between  tliis  command  and  the  prohibition  is  not 
ficparated  by  a  development  of  GOO  years,  but  the  two  are  placed 
side  by  side  in  tliis  very  liistory  and  reconciled  by  the  issue  of  it. 
"  Now  I  know,"  says  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  "  that  thou  fearest 
(jrod,  and  hast  not  withheld  thine  own  son  from  me."  And 
again:  "By  myself  have  I  sworn,  because  thou  hast  done  this 
thing  and  hast  not  withheld  tliine  own  son,  that  in  blessing  I 
will  jjless  thee,  &c.,  because  thou  hast  obeyed  my  voice." 

But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  does  the  trial  of  Abraham  take  tli is 
form,  and  what  bearing  has  it  upon  the  history  of  Abraliam  and 
the  development  of  the  covenant  ?  This  bearing  must  have  been 
the  more  important  and  deep,  as  manifestly  the  trial  and  its 
issue  marked  the  highest  stage  in  all  the  leadings,  trials,  or 
triumphs  in  the  life  of  Abraham,  and  the  fullest  manifestation 
of  his  faith.  Every  one  is  prepared  to  find  that  the  history  of 
Al)raham  has  now  reached  its  climax,  and  in  jioint  of  fact  the 
remainder  of  his  life  passes  quietly  and  undisturl)ed,  without  any 
other  trials,  contests,  and  triumi)hs,  till  in  a  good  old  age  he  is 
gathered  to  his  fathers.  Eivald  (p.  382)  beautifully  and  aptly 
delineates  the  bearing  of  this  "  myth,"  as  he  calls  it,  and  that  in 
language  so  appropriate  that  its  meaning  as  ixfact  could  scarcely 
have  been  better  expressed.  '■  But  as  yet  even  Isaac,  that 
precious  gift  so  long  promised,  was  only  a  natural  blessing  for 
Abraham.     A   son   like  any  other,   altliongh    the   offspring  of 


2G4  ARRAHAM.    (§  65.) 

Sarah — the  son  of  Abraham  was  born  to  him  and  educated  in 
his  house.  Since  his  birth  he  has  not  been  called  upon  to  bear 
for  liim  pangs,  the  pangs  of  a  soul  struggling  in  faith ;  and  yet 
every  blessing  becomes  only  spiritual  and  truly  lasting  if  we  are 
able  also  to  appropriate  it  in  the  contest  and  in  the  struggles  of 
a  believing  spirit."  Comp.  also  especially  Baumgarten's  Comm. 
i.  1,  p.  232,  &c.,  which  presents  probably  the  best  treatment 
which  the  subject  has  hitherto  received,  although  it  requires  to 
be  supplemented  in  some  not  unimportant  particulars.  Abraham's 
natural  powers  had  ceased;  but  through  the  power  of  Di\'ine 
]3romise  was  Isaac  begotten.  Hence,  although  Abraham  had 
begotten  the  seed  of  promise  by  the  strength  of  his  faith  in  the 
promise,  it  was  still  in  the  natural  way  and  by  the  will  of  the 
flesh.  True,  Isaac  was  begotten  in  circumcision,  i.e.  the  natm'al 
character  and  the  impmity  of  generation  had  been  removed,  but 
only  symholiccdly,  not  really.  Hence  Isaac  is  the  son  of  promise 
and  of  grace,  but  at  the  same  time  also  the  son  of  nature  and  of 
tlie  flesh.  This  led  to  a  two-fold  relation  between  Abraham  and 
his  child.  He  cherisheth  Isaac  as  the  son  of  promise  and  as  the 
gift  of  Divine  omnipotence  and  of  grace ;  but  he  also  cherishes 
him  as  the  offspring  of  his  own  body.  In  the  heart  of  Abraham 
this  fleshly  affection  contends  with  the  spiritual  for  the  sole  pos- 
session of  Isaac.  But  if  the  faith  of  Abraham ,  which  is  accounted 
to  him  for  righteousness,  is  to  be  perfected,  he  must  deny  his 
fleshly  love  to  his  son,  as  he  had  formerly  in  the  exercise  of  faith 
given  up  his  father  and  mother,  his  kindred  and  country  (Gen. 
xii.  1.)  The  carnal  generation  was  the  basis  of  his  carnal  at- 
tachment ;  the  promise  that  of  his  spiritual  attachment  towards 
Isaac.  But  the  former  must  be  given  up  that  the  promise  might 
remain  the  sole  basis  of  his  affection.  Baumgarten  aptly  remarks : 
"  The  circumstance  that  Abraham  begat  Isaac  necessarily  innDhed 
that  his  relation  to  the  promised  seed  became  obscui-ed  ;  and  if 
Abraham  was  to  return  to  the  stage  of  pure  faith,  he  must,  as  it 
were,  by  another  act,  annul  that  of  begetting.  As  by  the  will 
of  the  flesh  he  had  given  life  to  Isaac,  so  he  must  by  the  will  of 
the  soul  take  it  from  him,  in  order  to  receive  him  again  from 
Jehovah  as  purely  and  simply  the  son  of  promise  and  of  grace." 
Such  then  is  the  bearing  of  the  Divine  connnand  given  to 
Abraham.  But  it  had  also  an  important  object  and  meaning  as 
bearing  upon  Isaac  and  his  position  in  the  covenant.  In  our 
view,  ivhat  circumcision  ivas  to  AhraJiam  (qua  begetting)  this 
OFFERING  UP  luas  to  Isaac  (qua  begotten.)  The  natural  life  of 
Isaac  was  to  be  surrendered,  because  through  generation  tliis  Hfe 
in  its  origin  was  defiled.  The  circumcision  of  Abraham  which 
liad  preceded  the  begetting  of  Isaac  had  symbolically,  not  really, 
removed  natural  defilement.     The  connnand  to  sacrifice  Isaac  is 


THE  OFFERING  CF  OF  ISAAC.    (§  Gi>.)  265 

an  illustration  of  the  fact  that  circumcision  is  not  capable  of 
accomplishing  really  that  which  it  exhibits  symbolically,  and 
that  natui-al  defilement  continued  to  descend.  As  the  necessity 
of  circumcision  showed  that  the  act  of  natural  generation  was 
impure,  so  this  command  to  sacrifice  Isaac  manifests  that  the 
natural  life  of  the  party  begotten  was  also  impure. 

But  circumcision  was  not  to  be  emasculation.  Although 
tainted  with  impurity,  generation  was  to  continue  in  order  to 
prepare  for  the  last  and  perfect  generation,  in  wliich  every  defect 
of  nature  was  not  only  symhoUcally  but  rcaUy  removed.  In  like  s^ 
manner  also  the  life  of  Isaac  was  to  be  offered  up,  but  not  taken 
away.  Although  tainted  by  natural  sin  it  was  to  continue  sub- 
servient to  covenant  purposes,  until  in  the  course  of  tlie  develop- 
ment of  covenant-activity  that  life  which  was  perfectly  pure  and 
holy  should  be  exhibited.  As  in  circumcision  Abraham  had  sur- 
rendered liimself  to  God,  symbolically  to  remove  the  natural 
impurity  of  generation,  that  henceforth  it  might  be  dedicated 
and  devoted  to  covenant-purposes,  so  Isaac  also  offers  up  his  Hfe. 
By  this  act  doom  is  pronounced  on  its  natural  impm-ity,  and 
after  it  had  passed  through  the  terrors  of  death  he  receives  it 
again  at  the  hand  of  God,  but  devoted  and  sanctified  for  covenant 
purposes. 

Lastly,  this  event,  happening  to  Abraham — the  first  in  the 
series  of  the  covenant  who  begat,  and  to  Isaac,  the  first  who  was 
begotten — has  not  merely  an  individual  and  transitory,  but  a 
typical  import  for  the  general  development.  It  inchoates  the 
character  and  the  conditions  under  which  alone  the  development 
can  lead  to  its  proper  goal.  In  general  it  clearly  expresses  that 
wdthin  the  covenant  all  natural  possession  must  be  surrendered, 
in  so  far  as  carnal  affection  has  there  its  place  and  claim.  Even 
life,  viewed  independently  and  as  a  product  of  nature,  must 
-willingly  be  yielded  up  as  in  itself  unfit  for  covenant  purposes, 
that  it  may  again  be  received  back  from  God,  but  now  sanctified, 
dedicated,  and  a  gift  of  grace.  As  the  circumcision  of  Abraham, 
so  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac  must  henceforth  be  repeated  in  every 
member  of  the  covenant  nation.  But  in  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac  it 
has  clearly  ap])cared  that  God  demands  only  the  ideal,  not  the 
real  sacrifice  of  life.  The  jiutting  away  of  everything  connected 
with  self  and  our  own  a\i11,  the  surrender  of  thought  and  heart, 
had  manifestly  been  the  great  object  in  view,  and  was  therefore 
sufficient  on  the  occasion  of  every  succeeding  birth.  Still,  ever 
afterwards  was  this  abstract  idea  embodied  in  symbolical  action, 
when  the  frst  horn  was  offered  up  in  the  sanctuary.  Such 
dedication  of  the  first  born  implied  also  that  of  all  the  other 
children,  just  as  eo  ipso  woman  was  sanctified  in  the  circumcision 
of  the  Uian. 


200  ABRAHAM.    (§  65.) 

Before  proceeding  farther  we  must  accompany  Abraham  on 
liis  sad  journey  to  the  place  where  Isaac  was  to  he  sacrificed,  in 
order  to  gain  a  proper  view  of  his  subjective  relation  to  the  ob- 
jective command  of  God.  He  is  to  ofier  up  the  son  for  whom 
he  had  hoped  and  waited  for  twenty-five  years,  and  on  whose  life 
hung  all  the  precious  and  glorious  promises  which  held  out  such 
unspeakable  blessing  and  salvation  itself  to  all  nations.  And 
yet  Abraham  was  to  preserve  his  faith  in  the  promises,  and  his 
confidence  in  Him  who  had  given  them.  TMs  was  the  testing 
point  in  the  temptation.  And  by  faith  he  stood  this  test.  Without 
finding  special  mention  of  it  in  the  text,  we  conclude  that  the 
demand  of  God  must  have  occasioned  a  severe  struggle  in  the 
soul  of  Abraham ;  that  doubt  and  faith,  fears  and  hopes,  had 
contended  for  ascendancy.  But,  as  according  to  verse  3  he  had 
commenced  his  journey  early  on  the  morrow  after  that  ^dsion, 
the  contest  had  not  lasted  long.  Similarly  the  whole  issue  of 
the  history  proves  that  the  struggle  had  been  followed  by  most 
complete  and  undoubted  victory.  Verse  5  shews  in  what  manner 
the  contest  was  carried  on,  and  the  victory  achieved.  Abraham 
orders  the  servants  whom  he  had  brought  with  him  to  wait  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  confidently  adds,  "  I  and  the  lad 
will  go  yonder,  and  when  we  have  worshipped  we  will  come  again 
unto  you."  This  confident  declaration  shows  how  correctly  the 
author  of  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews  had  interpreted  the  meaning 
and  the  thoughts  of  Abraham  when  in  chap.  xi.  19  he  comments, 
"  accounting  that  God  was  able  to  raise  him  up  even  from  the 
dead ;  from  whence  also  he  received  him  in  a  figure."  If  God 
had  at  first  given  the  son  of  promise  from  the  dead  body  of 
Sarah,  he  could  also  again  restore  him  from  the  dead.  Nor 
could  he  feel  any  doubt  on  this  point,  since  on  the  life  of  tliis  son 
hung  all  the  promises  confirmed  with  an  oath.  As  formerly 
Abraham  had  considered  not  the  dead  body  of  Sarah,  but  the 
omnipotence  of  Him  who  had  given  the  promise,  so  now  he  con- 
sidered not  the  sacrificial  knife  nor  the  fire,  but  only  the  command 
of  God,  and  comforted  himself  with  the  faithfulness  of  Him 
ivlio,  despite  all  appearances  to  the  contrary,  would  fidfil  His 
promise. 

But  these  considerations  neither  wholly  remove  the  difficulties 
of  the  command  to  sacrifice  Isaac,  as  compared  with  the  later 
absolute  prohibition  of  human  sacrifices,  nor  do  they  exhaust  the 
rich  and  deep  bearing,  and  the  comprehensive  and  extensive 
meaning  of  this  fact,  viewed  in  connection  with  the  history  of 
salvation  generally.  On  all  the  heights  around,  Abraham  descried 
altars  smoking  with  human  sacrifices  which  were  offered  to  the 
idols  of  Canaan.  It  was  impossible  but  that  Abraham  must  have 
\iewed  the   Divine  command  to  offer  up  his  son  Isaac — this 


THE  OFFERING  UF  OF  ISAAC.    (§  i}5.)  267 

climax  of  hi«  Belf-renunciution — as  standing  in  some  relation  to 
the  climax  in  the  worship  of  nature,  of  which  he  had  witness  in 
these  heathen  sacrilices.  Not  only  Abraham,  but  every  student 
of  history  in  later  times,  jjiust  draw  a  parallel  between  those 
human  sacrifices  which  were  actually  slain  and  this  offering 
which  was  indeed  demanded  but  arrested  in  the  decisive  moment. 
Indeed,  the  fidl  meaning  and  the  real  relation  of  both  kinds  of 
sacrifices  appears  only  in  this  parallelism,  and  by  a  comparison 
of  the  two. 

Hengstenherg  (Contrib.  iii.  144)  denies  not  only  that  tltis 
event  bore  reference  to  human  sacrifices  in  the  worship  of  nature, 
but  that  human  sacrifices  were  general  among  the  heatlien.  But 
in  both  these  respects  he  is  mistaken.  He  maintains :  "  Human 
sacrifices  do  not  form  part  of  heathenism  generally  ;  they  are  only 
the  darkest  night-side  of  heathenism.  They  occur  among  nations 
who,  religiously  and  morally,  are  most  degraded.  The  moral 
feeling  of  the  more  noble  among  the  heathen  revolted  against 
them,  and  was  not  lured  by  the  appearance  of  magnitude  or 
devotion  attaching  to  them  (c(3mp.  Cicetv  de  officiis  iii.  25,  and 
Curtius  iv.  3,  p.  23.)"  But  this  assertion  of  Hengstenherg  runs 
counter  to  undoubted  historical  facts.  Human  sacrifices  took 
place  not  only  among  the  cannibals  of  Oceania,  but,  \\qthout 
exception,  among  all  the  nations  of  antiquity,  and  that  not  only 
among  barbarous,  but  among  cultivated  races  ;  not  only  among 
rude  tribes,  but  among  the  most  thoughtful  and  intellectual 
peoples  (comp.  Eiiseh.  Prep.  Ev.  iv.,  16  ;  Baur  Symb.  ii.  2,  p.  293, 
&c.  ;  Lasaulx,  The  Atoning  Sacrifice  among  the  Greeks  and 
Romans,  1841,  pp.  8 — 12  ;  Ghillany,  The  Human  Sacrifices  of 
the  Ancient  Hebrews,  Niiremb,  1842,  pp.  107,  &c.)  Indeed 
they  seem  to  have  been  most  frequent  at  the  periods  wdien  the 
moral  and  religious  life  of  the  nations  was  most  vigorous,  and  to 
have  disappeared  in  times  of  moral  degeneration  and  of  religious 
indifferentism.  Cicero  may  call  the  sacrifice  of  Iphigenia  a 
"  tetrumf acinus"  and  Curtius  designate  human  sacrifices  gene- 
rally as  a  ^^  sacrilegium"  and  a  '■^  dura  superstitio."  But  the 
religious  and  rationalistic  superficiality  of  these  writers  is  well 
known.  Besides,  they  ^n•ote  at  a  time  when  the  religious  life  of 
heathenism  in  general  had  sunk  so  low  that  one  haruspex  could 
not  meet  another  without  laughing,  and  the  oracles  of  Pythia 
were  regarded  as  the  result  of  clever  tricks  on  the  part  of  the 
priests,  &c.  Without  doul^t,  the  moral  life  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  was  much  more  vigorous  and  pure  during  the  period 
when  hmnan  sacrifices  took  place,  than  in  the  dissolute  times  of 
the  Roman  em[)erors  when  such  ofierings  were  nc^  longer  brought. 
True,  in  those  ancient  times  also,  natural  feeling — the  voice  of 
flesh  and   blond,  pnternnl   and   inatemal   affection — must   hnv(> 


268  ABRAHAM.    (§  65.) 

resisted  such  demands  on  the  part  of  religion,  but  the  intensity 
of  religious  feeling  silenced  and  removed  this  opposition. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that,  however  human  sacrifices  belong  to 
the  sombre  part  of  religious  development,  they  spring  from  a 
true  and  deep  want  of  religious  consciousness.  In  proof  of  this 
we  appeal  to  the  general  experience  that  every  error,  however 
dangerous,  is  based  on  some  truth  misunderstood,  and  that  every 
aberration,  however  grievous,  had  started  from  a  desire  after  real 
good,  which  had  not  attained  its  goal  because  the  latter  was 
sought  neither  in  the  right  way  nor  by  right  means.  We  further 
appeal  to  the  universality  of  this  worship  among  all  nations, 
which  proves  that  the  want  which  it  embodied  was  genuine, 
however  false  its  realisation  may  have  been  ;  and,  lastly,  we  point 
to  the  strength  and  pertinacity  of  this  error,  however  great  the 
obstacles  which  it  required  to  set  aside,  and  which  it  actually 
overcame,  for  falsehood  is  only  strong  thi-ough  the  truth  which 
in  perverted  form  it  embodies.  Human  sacrifices  are  indeed  a 
dreadful  madness,  but  they  are  the  madness  of  despair.  TJiey 
express  despair  of  real  sacrifice,  and  utter  hopelessness  of  dis- 
covering a  real  atonement.  So  deep  and  strong  in  the  religious 
consciousness  of  man  is  the  sense  of  the  impmity  attaching  to 
human  life,  and  the  want  of  sufficient  atonement  and  sanctifica- 
tion,  that  to  attain  these  blessings,  nothing  seemed  too  dear  or 
too  precious.  But  in  all  the  wide  world  no  object  is  more  dear 
or  precious  than  this  very  tainted  and  unholy  life  of  man.  Hence 
the  first  impulse  was  to  surrender  one's  own  life  in  order  to 
obtain  forgiveness  and  sanctification,  and  next  to  sacrifice  that  of 
another  man  as  a  substitute.  The  general  religious  basis  of 
both  these  acts  consists  in  the  consciousness  of  unholiness,  the 
need  of  forgiveness,  the  knowledge  that  death  is  the  wages  of  sin, 
that  man  s  life  was  forfeited  by  sin,  and  also  in  a  deep  sense  that 
while  no  real  equivalent  could  be  oftered,  what  is  most  elevated, 
dear,  and  precious,  was  not  too  great  a  substitute  for  it.  But 
the  terrible  error  and  the  satanic  self-delusion  of  the  first-men- 
tioned kind  of  these  sacrifices  consists  in  tins,  that  so  far  trom 
attaining  a  new  and  holy  fife  by  surrendering  one's  unholy  fife, 
all  hope  of  such  a  change  is  thereby  completely  taken  away. 
Htill  more  dreadful  and  abominable  is  the  other  kind  of  sacrifices 
in  which  the  life  of  another  is  substituted  for  one's  own.  In  that 
case  the  personality  of  the  substitute,  wliich  is  to  give  to  the 
sacrifice  its  high  and  only  value,  is  most  iniquitously  tramjiled 
upon,  and  the  person  treated  as  matter,  while  the  fact  that  the 
life  which  is  substituted  is  as  unholy  as  that  whose  place  it  is  to 
take  is  purposely  kept  out  of  sight.  Heathenism  could  not 
indeed  wholly  ignore  this  fact,  but  the  sense  of  felt  want  impera- 
tively called  for  some  such  satisfaction.     This  was  not  obtained 


TITE  OFFERING  UP  OF  ISAAC.    (§  G5.)  269 

by  Kubstituting  animal  sacrifices,  of  which  tlie  insufficiency  was 
self-evident.  In  despair  men  resorted  to  human  sacrifices  ;  only 
when  the  earnestness  of  religious  life  more  and  more  gave  place 
to  indiiferentism  animal  sacrifices  were  again  exclusively  resorted 
to,  Bmmigarten  aptly  remarks :  "  This  circumstance  should  not 
be  regarded  as  constituting  a  real  progress  ;  it  was  only  the  pro- 
gress of  a  refinement  which  found  it  more  easy  to  get  rid  of  the 
sense  of  sin.  The  Erinnys  (Furies)  were  appeased,  but  not 
satisfied."  The  substituting  of  animal  sacrifices  had  no  objective 
warrant  among  the  heathen ;  it  was  merely  the  result  of  sulyec- 
tive  choice. 

Viewed  from  this  point,  we  regard  our  history  in  a  new  light, 
and  that  both  in  respect  of  its  subjective  and  objective  import. 
An  important  truth,  which  may  not  be  lightly  passed  over,  lies 
at  the  foundation  of  the  statements  of  JVinei'  and  of  Bcrtlieau — 
however  inadmissible  in  other  respects  they  may  be — that  the 
attempt  to  sacrifice  Isaac  had  been  occasioned  b)^  the  Canaanitish 
custom  of  tlie  same  kind,  and  that  the  Divine  command  presup- 
posed that  Abraham's  knowledge  and  sense  of  God  had,  througli 
frequent  contact  with  such  sacrifices,  become  somewhat  dim. 
If  human  sacrifices  embody  a  genuine  religious  element,  however 
perverted  it  may  have  become,  the  sensorium  of  Abraham,  which 
was  so  susceptible  for  everything  religious,  must  have  been  aftected 
by  it,  and  that  in  proportion  as  both  tlie  self-denial  of  heathenism 
which  appeared  in  such  acts  was  great  and  energetic,  and 
Abraham  himself  felt  conscious  that  his  faith  could  not  be  per- 
fected except  l)y  renunciation  and  self-denial.  These  Canaanitish 
sacrifices  of  children,  and  the  readiness  with  which  the  heathen 
around  him  (offered  them,  must  have  excited  in  Abraham  a  con- 
test of  thoughts  accusing  and  excusing  one  another,  and  induced 
him  to  exaujine  himself  whether  he  also  was  capable  of  sufficient 
remmciatiou  and  self-denial  to  do,  if  his  God  demanded  it,  what 
the  heathen  around  him  were  doing.  But  if  this  question  2vas 
raised  in  the  heart  of  Abraham,  it  must  also  have  been  brought 
to  a  definite  settlement  through  some  outward  fact.  Such  was 
the  basis  for  the  demand  of  Gcxl  so  far  as  Abraham  ^^'as  con- 
cerned, and  such  the  educational  motive  for  this  trial.  The 
obedience  of  Abraham's  faith  must  in  energy  and  entireness  not 
lag  l)elnnd  that  .wliich  the  religion  of  nature  demanded  and 
obtained  from  its  professors.  Abraham  must  be  ready  to  do  for 
his  God  what  tlie  heathen  nations  around  him  were  capable  of 
doing  for  their  false  gods.  In  every  respect  Abraham,  as  the 
hero  of  faith,  is  to  out-distance  all  others  in  self-denial. 

Viewing  it  otjectivel//,  we  add  the  following  remarks : — 
Human  sacrifice  was  the  climax  of  worship  in  the  religion  of 
nature.  "  As  this  contained  au  element  of  truth,  and  covenant- 


270  ABRAHAM.    (§  65.) 

religion  had  absolute  truth  for  its  aims,  it  was  necessary  that 
true  and  false  religion  should  in  this  respect  also  from  the  very 
first  diverge.  That  which  was  true  must,  therefore,  be  recog- 
nised ;  that  which  was  false  and  lying  must  be  condemned  and 
denied.  Human  sacrifices  had  originated  in  a  sense  of  the 
insufficiency  of  animal  sacrifices.  But  the  command  to  sacrifice 
Isaac  is  a  recognition  of  the  truth  of  the  feeling  that  human  life 
must  be  given  up  and  sacrificed,  inasmuch  as  it  was  unholy  and 
undedicated.  The  interposition  on  the  part  of  Grod  was  a  refu- 
tation and  a  condemnation  of  the  horrible  misrepresentation 
of  this  truth  in  heatlienism.  Lastly,  by  the  ram  whom  God 
substitutes,  Abraham  is  again  directed  to  offer  anunal  sacrifices 
as  substitutes  and  symbols  of  the  offering  up  of  human  life,  and 
the  divine  acceptance  of  the  animal  sacrifice  sanctions,  and,  for 
the  time  being,  solemnly  acknowledges  the  sufficiency  of  animal 
sacrifices,  which  in  themselves  would  have  been  quite  inadequate. 
The  circumstance  that  in  themselves  animal  sacrifices  are  inade- 
quate, and  that  God,  nevertheless,  accepts  them  as  sufficient, 
is  a  type  and  guarantee  (comp.  the  Author  s  "  Mosaic  Sacrifice," 
p.  40)  that  full,  genuine,  and  sufficient  satisfaction  and  sancti- 
fication  of  human  life  shall  really  and  absolutely  be  obtained, 
even  as  then  it  was  symbolically  I'epresented.  By  the  restitution 
of  the  life  wliich  in  thought  and  intention  Abraham  had  already 
offered  up,  the  despair  of  heathenism  is,  in  the  case  of  the 
covenant-people,  entirely  removed.  Thus  in  its  very  commence- 
ment the  religion  of  the  chosen  race  has  overcome  the  principle 
of  the  worship  of  nature,  and  left  far  in  the  back  ground  its  deve- 
lopment, even  where  it  contained  an  element  of  truth.  The 
human  sacrifices  in  the  worship  of  nature  are  the  fearful  cry  of 
need  and  anxiety,  elicited  from  man  seeking  salvation  in  his  own 
way — a  dreadful  dissonance  which  only  Christianity  can  resolve 
into  hymns  of  joy  and  praise  ;  it  is  a  human  device,  neither 
approved  by  God  nor  man — to  solve  the  problem  of  all  religion, 
the  enigma  of  a  religious  struggle  and  enquiry  continued  during 
forty  centuries,  and  which  Ood  alone  solved  on  Golgotha.  We 
subjoin  an  apt  remark  of  Baumgarfen : — "  The  sacrifice  of  the 
ram  on  the  part  of  Abraham  is  not  an  eOeXodprjaKeoa  [worship  of 
his  own  desire  or  choice]  but  of  divine  appointment.  Hence  the 
substitution  of  the  ram  does  not  diminish  the  former  solemnity 
of  the  event,  but  establishes  the  purpose  which  the  promised 
seed  was  to  serve  by  placing  its  fulfilment  in  the  future." 

Before  closing  we  must  refer  to  the  peculiar  locality  chosen  for 
the  sacrifice.  In  verse  2,  one  of  the  mountains  in  the  land  of 
Moriah  is  pointed  out  as  the  place  to  which  Abraham  was  to 
journey.  According  to  verse  4,  the  patriarch  arrives  tliere  (with 
an  ass  and  some  servants)  on  the  third  day  after  leaving  Beer- 


THE  UFFEUIN'G  UP  OF  ISAAC.    (§  65.)  271 

sheba  ;  and  according  to  verse  14  he  designated  that  place : 
Jehovah-Jireh,  "  Jehovah  Sees."  As  the  name  itself  (land  of 
Moriah),  so  the  distance  mentioned  leads  us  to  suppose  that  it 
was  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Jerusalem.  From  Bir-es-Seba, 
Ilohinson  took  twenty  hours  and  twenty-five  minutes  to  Jeru- 
salem, travelling  by  the  straight  way,  and  with  camels — a  dis- 
tance, therefore,  which  Abraham  could  easily  have  made  in  three 
days.  Bleek  (Stud.  u.  Krit.  for  1831,  p.  520,  &c.  ;  also  the 
Observ.  by  the  same  author,  p.  20),  and  after  him  Tuch  and 
others,  propose  to  read  Morelb  instead  of  Moriah,  and  refer  it  to 
that  height  near  Sychem,  where  Abraham  had  formerly  (chap, 
xii.  7.)  been  honoured  with  a  theophany,  and  where  he  had  built 
an  altar.  But  this  cannot  be  reconciled  with  the  distance  men- 
tioned in  the  text,  Robinson  took  fourteen  hours  and  thirty 
ixdmites  to  travel  with  mules  by  the  straight  road  from  Jeru- 
salem to  Sychem  (Nabulus),  so  that  the  entire  distance  from 
Beersheba  amounted  to  thirty-five  hours,  which  Abraham  could 
not  have  made  in  three  days.  But  even  the  name  points  to  the 
neighbourhood  of  Jerusalem.  The  designation  Moriah,  applied 
in  verse  2  to  the  whole  district,  was  at  a  later  period  confined  to 
that  particular  mountain  where  this  remarkable  event  had  taken 
place.  There  afterwards  the  temple  was  built  (2  Chron.  iii.  1  ; 
Josejyh.  Antiq.  i.  13,  2.)  We  now  perceive  why  Jehovah  chose 
that  particular  mountain.  The  object  in  view  was  to  give  Divine 
sanction  to  the  substitution  of  animals  in  sacrificing.  But  for 
the  sake  of  the  idea  and  of  the  plan  pursued  in  the  history  of  the 
covenant,  it  was  necessary  that  this  sanction  should  be  given  in 
that  very  place,  where  afterwards  the  only  central  point  of  all 
worship  and  of  all  sacrifices  should  be  fixed.  A  mountain  is  the 
most  natural  place  for  a  sacrifice — it  is  an  altar  of  nature's  own 
making.  Its  height  indicates  that  it  is  destined  for  Him  who 
dwelleth  on  high.  The  journey  to  Moriali  was  to  occupy  three 
days,  so  as  to  make  the  trial  greater,  as  it  would  have  been  much 
more  easy  for  Abraham  to  obey  the  command  of  God  imme- 
diately after  it  had  been  given,  and  during  the  freshness  of  first 
impressions,  than  after  three  days'  interval  and  reflection. 

The  name  ''Moriah'  seems  to  have  been  derived  from  the 
event  recorded  in  our  history ;  hence  that  designation  is  used  in 
verse  2, 2n'r  ijrolejmn,  for,  according  to  verse  14,  Abraliam  called 
the  name  of  that  place  Jehovah-Jireh  (Jehovah  Seeth),  and  the 
writer  adds:  "whence  it  is  said  to  this  day  in  tlie  mount  where 
Jehovah  is  seen."  Hence  Hengstenherg  (Contrib.  ii.  p.  2G3,  &c.) 
explains  the  name  as  comi)osed  of  the  part.  hoph.  of  the'  verb 
p^-^,  and  of  an  abbreviation  of  the  name  Jehovah  =  that  which 
is  shewn  of  Jehovali,  His  apparition.  Keil  (Lutheran  Journ. 
for  1851,  p.  227)  rejects  tliis  interpretation  because  it  confounds 


272  ABRAHAM.    (§  G5,  ()G.) 

the  Hophal  with  the  NipltoJ — the  former  meaning  "  to  be  shewn," 
"  to  shew  himself,"  or  "  to  appear."  But  from  2  Chron.  iii.  1  we 
infer  that  tliis  argument  is  not  conchisive.  If  that  passage  is 
translated  by  :  "In  Mount  Moriah,  wliich  was  shewn  to  David," 
it  proves  that  the  difference  betAveen  the  Hophal  and  the  Niphal 
is  not  so  decided  as  Keil  had  supposed.  But  if  it  is  rendered  by 
"  In  Mount  Moriah,  where  the  Lord  appeared  unto  David,"  it  will 
scarcely  l)e  possible  to  ignore  the  ethimological  allusion  of  n^5">3 
to  n''"1'i^.      It  i^  ^ot  difficult  to  reply  to  the  enquiry  of  Keil, 

r   • 

"  by  whom  was  Jehovah  to  have  been  shewn  ?"  We  answer,  by 
that  Angel  of  the  Lord  avIio  was  the  representative  of  Jehovah 
(§  52),  i.e.  by  whom  He  showed  Himself  For  the  sake  of  his 
peculiar  interpretation  of  Exod.  vi.  3,  Ehrard  (in  his  essay  on 
the  name  Jehovah,  in  the  Journal  for  Historical  Theology  for 
1849,  iv.  501),  who  thinks  that  the  name  Jehovah  had  not 
existed  at  the  time  of  the  Patriarchs,  derives  the  word  from  the 
Arabic  Hamara  =  aqua  iluxit  (comp.  Psalm,  cxlix.  11)  and 
attaches  to  it  the  idea  of  a  country  rich  in  sjjrings.  But  irre- 
spective of  the  fact  that  this  interpretation  of  Ex.  vi.  3  is  erroneous 
(comp.  §  96  1.),  the  above  view  is  contrary  to  the  Masoretic 
punctuation  which  regards  the  pj  at  the  commencement  of  the 
word  as  the  article,  while  Ehrard  has  to  punctuate  n^'liT^n^ 
and  to  regard  it  as  part  of  the  root.  Besides  Keil,  I.e.,  declares 
that  the  derivation  of  a  word  n*''Ti?on  with  dagesh  in  the  Jod  is 

a  grammatical  impossibility.  "We  therefore  regard  it  as  most 
advisable  to  retain  the  view  of  Henystenberg,  nor  do  we  see  our 
way  to  agree  with  Keil  that  "  as  much  uncertainty  attaches  to 
this  name  as  to  that  of  Moreh  in  Gen.  xii.  5." 


DEATH  AND  BURIAL  OF  SARAH.    MARRIAGE  OF  ISAAC.    LAST  DAYS 
OF  ABRAHAM. 

§  QQ.  (Gen.  xxiii.) — It  is  uncertain  how  long  Abraham  may 
have  continued  in  Beersheba  after  this  event.  By  and  bye  we 
find  him  again  in  Hebron.  There  Sarah  died  at  the  age  of  127 
years  (1.)  Abraham  who,  as  yet,  did  not  possess  a  foot's  breadth 
in  the  land  of  Promise,  in  public  assembly  purchases  for  400 
shekels  of  silver  from  Ephron  the  Hittite,  the  cave  of  Macphelah 
near  Hebron,  together  with  the  field  connected  with  it,  to  be  a 
burying  place  for  his  family  (2.)  There  Sarah  is  buried.  In  the 
land,  wliich  his  descendants  are  to  possess,  the  bones  of  Abra- 
ham and  those  of  his  wife  are  to  rest  undisturbed.     A  testimony 


DEATH  AND  BURIAL  OF  «AKA1J.    (§  (JtJ.)  273 

this  of  his  faitli  in  the  promise,  an  admonition  also  and  a  call  to 
liis  descendants  during  their  400  years  of  foreign  servitude  (comp. 

§  r)G)  (3.) 

(1)  Lightfoot  (Opera  i.  p.  14)  remarks  about  the  age  of  Sarah  : 
"  sola  inter  midieres,  cujus  aetas  in  scriptura  commemoretur." 
As  Isaac  was  a  boy  when  he  was  oifered  up,  and  thirty-seven 
years  of  age  when  Sarah  died,  a  considerable  interval  must  have 
elapsed  between  these  dates.  But  the  text  passes  rapidly  over 
this  i)eriod  to  the  close  of  the  history  of  Abraham,  as  the  temp- 
tation on  Mount  ]\Ioriah  was  the  climax  and  the  completion  of 
God's  leadings  with  him. 

(2)  The  name  Macphelali  (double,  double  cave)  is  a  nomen 
proprium.  The  place  in  Hebron  to  which  tradition  points  as 
the  exact  spot  of  the  patriarchal  burying  ground  is  at  present 
occupied  by  a  mosque  surrounded  by  high  walls,  and  is  called 
the  Grreat  Haram.  The  jealous  bigotry  of  the  Mussulmans  of 
Hebron  precludes  Jews  and  Christians  from  entering  this  sanc- 
tuary. Hence  no  reliable  account  of  its  interior  has  as  yet  been 
given.  Compare  the  interesting  statement  of  Robinson  (vol.  ii. 
pp.  72  to  83.)  This  traveller  remarks:  "  The  outer  structure 
evidently  belongs  to  a  high  antiquity  ;  and  the  resemblance  of  its 
architecture  to  that  of  the  remains  of  the  ancient  temple  of 
Jerusalem,  seems  to  point  to  a  Jewish  origin.  ...  1  know 
of  nothing  that  should  lead  us  to  question  the  correctness  of  the 
tradition  wliich  regards  this  as  the  place  of  sepulchre  of  Abraham 
and  the  other  patriarchs,  as  recorded  in  the  book  of  Genesis.  On 
the  contrary  there  is  much  to  strengthen  it.  Josephus  relates 
(Antiq.  i.  14  ;  Bell.  Jud.  iv.  9.  7)  that  Abraham  and  his  descen- 
dants erected  monuments  over  the  sepidchres  in  question,  .  . 
and  that  the  sepulchres  of  the  patriarchs  were  stdl  seen  in 
Hebron,  budt  of  marble,  and  of  elegant  workmanship.  In  the 
days  of  Eusehius  and  Jerome,  the  monument  of  Abraham  was 
yet  pointed  out  (Onomast.  Art.  ArbochJ  and  the  Bourdeaux 
pilgrim,  in  a.d.  333,  describes  it  as  a  quadrangle  built  of  stones 
of  admirable  beauty.  His  description  appears  to  me,  without 
much  doubt,  to  refer  to  the  exterior  structure  as  we  see  it  now  ; 
and  I  ventm-e  to  suppose  that  this  existed  already  in  the  days  of 
Josephus,  and  probably  much  earlier."  After  mentioning  later 
accounts  Eohinson  continues :  "  Thus  it  appears  to  me  Ave  may 
rest  Avith  confidence  in  the  view,  that  the  remarkable  external 
structure  of  the  harem  is,  indeed,  the  work  of  Jewish  hands, 
erected  long  before  the  destruction  of  the  nation,  around  the 

sepulchre  of  their  revered  progenitor The  cave  of 

Macphehdi  is  described  in  Scripture  as  at  the  '  end  of  the  held ' 
over  against  Mamre,  the  same  as  Hebron  (Gen.  xxiii.  9,  17 — 19  ; 

VOL.  I.  s 


274  ABRAHAM.    (§  66,  67.) 

XXXV.  27)  ;  and  all  the  later  wiiters  speak  of  the  sepulchres  of 
the  patriarchs  as  at  or  in  Hebron,  not  near  it.  .  .  .  Just  at 
the  left  of  the  principal  entrance  of  the  harem  is  a  small  hole  in 
the  massive  wall,  tlu'ough  which  the  Jews  are  permitted  at 
certain  times  to  look  into  the  interior,  .  .  .  although  the 
whole  was  now  closed  by  a  shutter  from  within."  On  the  value 
of  the  purchase  money,  four  hundred  shekels  of  sila^er, 
"  current  money  with  the  merchant,"  comp.  especially  Bocklis 
Metereological  Investigations,  Berlin  1838,  p.  56,  and  Hertheau, 
Coutrib.  to  tlie  History  of  Israel,  pp.  17,  &c.  Bochh  supposes 
that  coined  money  was  unknown  to  the  Hebrews  before  the  time 
of  the  Persians.  Others  again  deem  it  probable  that  even  before 
the  exile  they  used  coined,  or  at  least  stamped  pieces  of  metal. 
The  explanation  in  v.  16,  "current  with  the  merchant,"  shews 
that,  even  in  patriarchal  times  and  in  the  age  of  Moses,  definite 
pieces  of  metal,  which  somehow  or  other  indicated  their  own 
value,  were  employed  in  commerce  or  interchange.  It  is  more 
difficult  to  ascertain  what  was  the  exact  value  of  the  shekel. 
This  question  depends  on  a  comparison  with  the  well-known 
Maccabean  shekel  (274  Parisian  grains),  and  on  determining 
whether  the  common  shekel  or  tliat  of  the  sanctuary  (which  was 
double  the  weight  of  the  former)  had  been  the  original  coin 
(comp.  Winer,  Real-Lex.,  and  especially  Bertheau,  1.  c.) 

(3.)  Banke  remarks  (Investigations  i.,  p.  46)  :  "Even  in  his 
death  Abraham  wished  to  shew  his  faitli  in  the  truth  of  the 
promise  received,  just  as  at  a  much  later  period  Jeremiah, 
inmiediately  before  the  exile  and  when  the  approaching  fall  of 
Jerusalem  had  been  revealed  to  him,  with  all  due  formalities, 
purchased  tlie  field  of  Hamameel  in  Anathoth,  in  order  to  shew 
his  firm  confidence  in  tlie  promised  retm'u  of  his  people  to  their 
own  country."  It  is  strange  that  some  critics  should  regard  this 
event  as  a  myth,  invented  to  estabhsh  the  claim  of  the  Israelites 
to  the  country.  On  the  contrary  it  proves  that  the  patriarchs 
had  no  right  or  claim  to  the  land  (c^mp.  Br.  Bauer,  Criticism, 
i.  94.) 

On  the  difference  between  the  account  in  verses  9  and  17  and 
the  speech  of  Stephen  in  Acts  vii.  16,  comp.  the  various  Com- 
mentaries, and  Lilienthal,  "the  Grood  Cause,  &c.,"  iii.  p.  44, 
Kajine,  Bibl.  Invest.,  i.  p.  108  to  225. 

§  67.  (Gen.  xxiv.) — Three  years  after  the  death  of  Sarah 
Abraham  resolves  to  fill  the  gap  made  in  his  own  family  and  in 
the  heart  of  Isaac  (comp.  chap.  xxiv.  67),  by  seeking  a  wife  for 
his  son.  He  had  some  time  before  obtained  tidings  that  his 
])r()tlier  Nahor  in  Mesopotamia  had  Ijeen  blessed  with  numerous 


MARRIAGE  OF  ISAAC.    (§  67.)  275 

descendants  (chap.  xxii.  20,  &:c.)  He  could  not  give  to  the  son 
of  promise  a  wife  from  among  the  Canaanites  around  him.  He 
therefore  despatches  his  oldest  and  most  confidential  servant  (1) 
to  Mesopotamia,  thence  to  hring  a  wife  for  Isaac.  But  iirst  he 
binds  him  by  a  solemn  oath  (2)  not  in  any  case  either  to  bring 
a  Canaanite  to  his  son  or  to  suffer  him  to  retm-n  into  Meso- 
potamia. Tlie  servant  departs  with  camels  laden  with  rich 
presents.  In  a  miracidous  manner  God,  to  whom  in  prayer  he 
had  committed  his  mission,  brings  him  into  contact  with  her 
who  was  destined  to  be  Isaac's  bride.  Before  he  has  finished 
his  request,  the  beautiful  and  aliable  maiden  offers  to  him  water 
from  her  pitcher,  and,  of  her  own  accord,  proposes  to  draw  for 
his  camels  also  (3.)  This  had  been  the  sign  which  the  servant 
had  requested  from  the  Lord.  Still,  he  keeps  silence,  though 
rejoicing  in  anticipation  he  presents  her  with  golden  chains  and 
bracelets.  But  all  doubt  disappears  when  he  is  told  that  she  is 
Kebekah,  the  daughter  of  Bethuel,  and  tlie  grandchild  of  Nahor. 
He  now  introduces  himself  as  the  servant  of  Abraham.  The 
maiden  hastens  to  communicate  the  discovery  to  her  friends,  and 
her  brother  Laban  hospitably  receives  the  stranger  into  the 
house.  But  before  partaldng  either  of  food  or  of  drink,  the 
servant  introduces  the  object  of  his  mission,  which  fiUs  the  whole 
household  with  joy,  as  they  also  recognised  the  finger  of  God  in 
the  matter.  To  the  enquiry  "  wilt  thou  go  with  this  man,"  the 
maiden  unhesitatingly  replies,  "  I  -wdll  go."  The  blessing  of  her 
relatives  accompanies  her.  Isaac,  who  had  gone  forth  at  even- 
tide in  order  to  meditate  without  disturbance,  met  her  by  the 
way,  and  brought  her  into  the  tent  of  his  mother  Sarah.  She 
became  his  wife ;  he  loved  her,  and  was  comforted  after  his 
mother's  death  (4.) 


(1.)  It  is  commonly  supposed  that  the  servant  here  spoken  of, 
"  who  ruled  over  all  that  Abraham  had,"  was  Eliezer  of  Damascus, 
the  steward  of  Al)raliam  (chap.  xv.  2.)  There  is  no  express 
warrant  for  tliis  view,  but  great  probability  attaches  to  it.  As 
formerly  the  steward  was  introduced  as  the  presumptive  heir  of  his 
childless  master,  so  here  the  oath  which  Abraham  demands  from 
him  implies  that  if  Abraham  died  this  servant  would  occupy  an 
influential  position  towards  Isaac. 

(2.)  Abraham,  when  making  his  servant  swear,  causes  him  to 

s  2 


276  ABRAHAM.    (§  67,  68.) 

put  liis  hand  under  his  thigh.  This  custom  is  only  mentioned 
in  the  case  of  the  patriarchs,  in  this  place  and  in  chap,  xlvii.  29. 
The  ecclesiastical  fathers  and  later  interpreters  regarded  it  as 
bearing  reference  to  the  promised  seed ;  the  Eabbins  (and 
Delitzsch,  p.  386)  refer  it  to  the  covenant-sign  of  circimicision ; 
Grotius  to  the  sword  which  was  attached  to  the  thigh,  and  by 
which  the  ])arty  who  broke  the  covenant  was  to  perish  (comp. 
Valke?iaer,  de  ritibus  jurisjm'andi  caput  vii.,  in  OelricKs  Col- 
lectio  Dissert,  i.,  p.  264.)  It  is  most  natural  to  explain  the 
symbol  as  referring  to  the  thigh  as  the  seat  of  firmness  and  of 
strength. 

(3.)  Robinson  (vol.  ii.,  p.  22)  describes  a  similar  scene  by  a 
well  as  follows: — "There  was  an  ancient  well  in  the  valley, 
exliibiting  quite  a  pastoral  scene  of  patriarchal  days.  Many 
cattle,  flocks  of  sheep  and  kids,  and  also  camels,  were  all  waiting 
round  the  well,  while  men  and  women  were  busily  employed  in 
drawing  water  for  them.  These  people  at  once  offered  and  drew 
water  for  us  and  our  thirsty  animals,  without  the  expectation  of 
reward." 

(4.)  The  great  importance  attaching  to  the  marriage  of  Isaac, 
which  appears  from  the  fulness  of  its  pictorial  descriptions,  does 
not  merely  proceed  from  the  idyllic  and  typical  character  of  the 
event,  but  from  the  general  importance  attaching  in  the  history 
of  the  covenant  to  marriage  as  the  means  and  the  condition  for 
the  fulfilment  of  the  promise. 


§  QS.  (Gren.  XXV.  1 — 10.) — After  the  death  of  Sarah  Abraham 
took  Keturah  (whose  descent  is  unknown)  for  his  concubine. 
She  bare  him  six  sons,  who  became  the  ancestors  of  Arabic 
tribes  (1.)  Having  constituted  Isaac  his  sole  heir,  and  given  to 
the  sons  of  his  two  concubines  rich  gifts,  Abraham  died,  175 
years  old  and  fuU  of  years.  His  sons  Isaac  and  Islmaael  buried 
liim  in  the  cave  of  Macphelah,  by  the  side  of  Sarah  his  wife. 

(1.)  Tlie  descendants  of  Abraham  by  Keturah  were  in  part  a 
fulfilment  of  the  promise  that  Abraham  was  to  become  the 
father  of  many  nations.  Their  names  cannot  always  be  traced 
with  certainty.  The  best  known  race  among  them  were  the 
Midianites,  who  settled  along  the  Elamitic  gulf,  and  afterwards 
repeatedly  came  into  contact  with  Israel.  Baumgarten  aptly 
remarks  (p.  245)  :  "As  the  maniage  with  Keturah  and  its 
issue  was  entirely  within  the  sphere  of  nature,  it  differs  from  the 
connection  with  Hagar,  when  Abraliam  sought  to  obtain  the 
promised  seed,  and  from  his  marriage  with  Sarah,  in  which  this 


LAST  DAYS  OF  ABRAHAM.    (§  G8.)  277 

seed  was  both  promised  and  given.  Hence  there  are  no  pro- 
mises for  the  sons  of  Keturah."  Abraham  begets  six  sons  after 
liis  body  had  before  been  as  good  as  dead  for  many  years,  since 
his  vigour  had  been  restored,  at  the  time  when  Isaac  was 
begotten. 


(  279  ) 


SECOND    STAGE   IN  THE   HISTORY   OF   THE 

FAMILY. 


ISiVAC. 


THE  SONS  OF  ISAAC. 


§  69.  (Gen.  xxv.  11 — 26.) — ALraliam  seems  to  have  spent  the 
latter  years  of  his  life  in  peaceful  retirement,  having  settled  along 
the  southern  borders  of  Palestine  (v.  11  and  chap.  xxiv.  62.) 
There,  by  the  well  La-hai-roi  (§  57),  we  also  find  Isaac.  This 
quiet,  solitary  district,  far  from  the  busy  haunts  of  the  Canaanites, 
is  adapted  to  his  retiring  disposition.  As  formerly  Abraham,  so 
is  Isaac  now  called  upon  to  hope  and  to  wait.  For  twenty  years 
his  wife  is  harren  (1),  and  during  this  lengthened  period  he  has 
sufficient  occasion  to  exercise  his  faith  in  the  promise.  At  last 
God  hears  his  prayer,  and  Eebekah  conceives.  But  the  childi'en 
struggle  together  within  her.  In  deep-felt  anxiety  she  takes  this 
circumstance  as  indicative  of  evil ;  nor  was  her  aj)prehension  un- 
grounded. She  went  to  enquire  of  Jehovah,  and  the  Lord  said 
unto  her  (2) 

"  Two  nations  are  in  thy  womb. 

And  two  manner  of  people  shall  be  separated  from  thy  bowels ; 
The  one  people  shall  be  stronger  than  the  other  people, 
And  the  elder  shall  serve  the  younger." 

And  when  her  days  to  be  delivered  were  come,  she  gave  birth  to 
twins.  The  first  born  was  rough  and  hairy,  and  was  called 
Esau.  The  second  held  by  the  hand  to  the  lieel  of  his  brother, 
and  was  called  Jacob  (3.) 

(1.)  Here  also  the  fact  that  the  seed  of  promise  was  to  be 
gotten  Trapa  ^uaiv  again  becomes  apparent.  It  is  indeed  true 
tliat  among  the  ancient  Hebrews  many  eminent  men,  destined  to 


280  ISAAC.  (§  G9.) 

form  an  era,  were  born  of  mothers  who  had  reached  a  more 
advanced  age,  and  whose  natural  barrenness  seemed  to  preclude 
any  hope  of  descendants.  But  this  view  is  neither  an  illusion, 
a  popular  fancy,  nor  a  phantom  without  reaUty ;  it  results  from 
experience  as  well  as  from  the  nature  of  the  case.  Even  in 
common  life  it  is  a  fact,  wliich  perhaps  may  admit  of  physiological 
explanation,  that  frequently  persons  born  under  such  circum- 
stances are  specially  gifted.  The  religious  feeling  of  all  ages 
considers  such  persons  as  the  gift  of  Divine  mercy,  and  we  shall 
not  therefore  deem  it  strange  if  tliis  view  was  strongly  held  among 
the  chosen  race,  whose  history  was  meant  to  illustrate  that 
Divine  mercy,  and  whose  calling  and  purpose  was  distinctively 
Trapn  (pvan^. 

(2.)  Commentators  have  hazarded  various  conjectures  as  to 
the  manner  in  wliich  Eebekah  had  enquired  of  Jehovah. 
Luther  supposes  that  she  went  to  the  patriarch  Shem,  who  had 
still  been  in  Hfe ;  others  that  she  had  enquired  of  Abraham  or  of 
Melchisedec,  just  as  in  later  times  the  prophets  used  to  be  con- 
sulted. This  supposition  is  confirmed  by  a  reference  to  1  Sam. 
ix.  9,  where  "  to  enquire  of  the  Lord"  through  prophets  or  seers 
is  characterised  as  a  very  ancient  custom  in  Israel.  Hdvernick 
supposes  that  of  the  three  modes  of  enquiring  at  the  Lord 
mentioned  in  1  Sam.  xxviii.  6  (by  dreams,  by  the  Urim,  and 
by  prophets),  the  first  was  chiefly  characteristic  of  the  earlier 
periods  of  Jewish  history.  But  the  expression  "she  loent"  can 
scarcely  be  reconciled  with  the  idea  of  a  dream.  Others  again 
suppose  that  Rebekah  had  simply  turned  in  prayer  to  the  Lord, 
and  obtained  from  Him  a  direct  answer.  Although  this  would 
so  far  agTce  with  the  expression  "  she  loent"  the  whole  tone  of 
the  narrative  seems  to  point  to  some  special  and  peculiar  manner 
of  enquiring  of  the  Lord,  such  as  tlu'ough  some  prophet.  We 
do  not  indeed  in  this  respect  attach  any  importance  to  the  title 
"prophet,"  given  to  Abraham  in  chap.  xx.  7  (comp.  §  63,  3.) 
But  we  suppose  that  as  among  all  the  nations  of  antiquity,  so  at 
the  commencement  of  the  Jewish  race  also,  and  before  in  the 
Theocracy  the  regidar  order  of  prophets  appeared,  there  had 
been  seers,  who  divined  and  gave  oracular  answers  to  questions 
proposed  to  them.  Only  we  must  not  forget  that  as  the  whole 
religious  life  of  the  chosen  race,  so  any  such  oracle  was  given  not 
in  dependance  on  idols,  but  on  Jehovah,  and  that  these  pre- 
decessors of  the  prophets  prepared  the  way  and  formed  a  transi- 
tion for  the  manifestation  of  Grod  by  His  prophets  in  after  times. 
For,  "  before  time  in  Israel,  when  a  man  went  to  enquire  of  God, 
thus  he  spake,  Come  let  us  go  to  the  seer ;  for  he  that  is  now 
called  a  'prophet,  was  before  time  called  a  seer"  (1  Sam.  ix.  9.) 
"  Z^e    Wette   indeed   thinks   that   instead   of  asking   Jehovah, 


THE  SONS  OF  ISAAC.    (§  GD.)  281 

Rebekah  would  have  only  required  to  have  consulted  a  midwife. 
If  Eebekah  would  have  been  satisfied  with  an  answer  such  as 
that,  then  De  Wette's  suggestion  were  in  place.  But  we  suppose 
she  did  not  nuicli  care  for  that  wliich  a  midwife  could  have  told 
her." — Baumgarten. 

The  reply  which  she  obtains  confirms  her  apprehensions.    The 
struggling  of  the  children  in  the  womb  points  to  future  hostile 
feelings,  and  the  contest  which  is  to  ensue  when  both  shall  have 
become   nations.      Hence  both  cannot  be  destined  for  divine 
covenant-purposes.     The  purposes  of  the  law  of  separation  (§  49) 
and  of  selection,  in  virtue  of  which  Abraham  was  taken  from  his 
kindred  and  friends,  and  wliich  manifested  itself  when  Ishmael 
was  cast  out,  have  not  yet  been  wholly  met  and  fulfilled.      For 
theu'  completion  it  is  necessary  that  one  of  Isaac's  children  should 
be  separated.     But  on  the  other  hand,  the  fact  that  the  two  sons 
are  the  fruit  of  the  same  generation,  and  born  at  the  sametime, 
shews  that  this  process  of  separating  the  wild  branches  of  nature 
from  the  vine  which  God  hath  planted,  had  now  reached  its  goal. 
The  contrast  between  the  sons  of  Abraham  arose  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  they  were  the  children  of  different  mothers,  and 
that  the  one  was  begotten  in  uncircumcision  the  other  in  circum- 
cision.    (Comp.  §58.)     Hence,  the  difference  between  them  was 
external  and  manifest.      But  the  separation  wdiicli  was  now  tu 
take  place,  would  be  between  two  sons  of  Isaac  who  in  external 
position  were  equal  to  each  other.      Nay  more,  to  shew  how 
thorougldy  the  divine  call  and  grace  diflPer  from  nature,  the 
younger  would  be   preferred  to  the  older,  who,  according  to 
human  arrangements,  should  have  had  the  pre-eminence.     Here, 
as  thi'oughout  the  whole  history  of  salvation,  it  becomes  manifest 
that  God  chooses  for  his  purposes  "  the  mean  things  of  the  world 
and  things  which  are  not."      As  x\braliam  was  to  shew  his  faith 
in  casting  out  Ishmael,  and  surrendering  his  p;iternal  affection  to 
the  di\dne  choice,  so  here  also,'and  for  similar  purposes,  were  the 
parents  to  surrender  their  parental  affection  to  the  great  purposes 
of  this  history. 

(3.)  With  reference  to  the  struggling  of  the  children  in  the 
womb,  even  the  circumstance  that  the  second  held  by  the  liecl  of 
his  brother  is  significant,  and  obtained  for  him  the  name  of 
Jacob.  Tuch  indeed  declares  that  the  narrative  "  runs  counter 
to  all  physical  possibility.''  This  however,  is,  only  the  random 
statement  of  a  theologian  who,  on  such  a  question,  should  scarcely 
venture  to  give  a  decisive  verdict,  especially  when  those  who 
understand  the  matter  do  not  find  any  difficulty  in  it.  Honest 
Hosenmidler  contented  himself  by  saying  :  "  de  qua  re  judicium 
osto  penes  artis  obstetricia?  peritos."  From  mmierous  testimonies 
of  medical  writers  we  select  one  of  the  latest.     Triisen  ("the 


282  ISAAC.   (§  69,  70.) 

diseases  of  the  Bible  and  the  passages  of  Holy  Writ  bearing 
reference  to  Medicine,"  Posen  1843)  observes  (p.  59):  "  We  ac- 
count for  the  circumstance  that  the  arm  of  the  second  child 
should  have  fallen  forward,  by  this,  that  generally  twins  are 
smaller  than  when  there  is  only  one  cliild.  In  those  cases  the 
delivery  is  generally  rapid,  and  certain  parts  of  the  second  cliild 
fall  forward." 

Wlien  we  read  that  the  first  born  was  covered  with  reddish 
hair  we  must  not  think  that  he  was  a  monstrosity,  however  uiv- 
common  and  striking  his  appearance  may  have  been  (comj).  chap, 
xxvii.  vv.  11  and  16.)  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  suppose,  with 
Friederich  (Contrib.  to  the  Bible  i.  p.  298)  that  this  was  a  case 
of  hypertrichosis.  Steffens  (Relig.  Phil.  i.  228)  remarks  that 
the  want  in  man  of  a  covering  envelope,  such  as  animals  have, 
indicates  that  he  is  destined  for  a  supersensuous  sphere.  Its 
presence,  therefore,  in  the  case  of  Esau  would  typify  that  the  ten- 
dency of  his  life  would  be  in  the  direction  of  the  sensual.  Len- 
gerke  i.  p.  296  suggests  that  the  myth  of  Esau's  hairy  appearance 
was  devised  because  the  Edomites  inhabited  the  wooded  moun- 
tains of  Seir  !  Even  Winer  marks  this  discovery  only  Avith  a 
sign  of  exclamation  (Eeal.  Lex.  i.  p.  345  note  2.) 

Both  sons  obtained  their  name  from  circumstances  connected 
with  their  birth.  The  oldest  is  called  Esau,  or  the  hairy,  the 
younger  Jacob,  or  he  that  holds  by  the  heel.  For,  the  verb  ^pj; 
is  the  denominative  of  3p;^>,  a  heel,  and  means  to  hold  by  the 

heel.  (Hosea  xii.  4.)  From  this,  the  other  meaning  "  to  sup- 
plant," Gen.  xxvii.  36,  has  probably  been  derived,  since  taking 
hold  by  the  heel  was  regarded  as  a  type  of  cunning  by  wliich 
it  is  proposed  to  throw  down  another.  (Comp.  Gesenius  in  tiic 
Thes.  1060.) 

§  70.  (Gen.  xxv.  27,  &c.) — As  the  boys  grew  up,  the  differ- 
ence in  their  character  and  tendency  appeared  more  and  more 
clearly.  It  manifested  itself  even  in  the  choice  of  their  occupa- 
tions. The  wild  disposition  of  Esau  finds  pleasure  in  the  roam- 
ing, free  life  of  a  hunter.  Jacob  is  quiet  and  retiring,  and  continues 
the  peaceful  avocation  of  shepherd  wliich  his  fathers  had  pursued. 
Strange  to  say,  the  wild  Esau  is  the  favourite  of  his  quiet  father, 
while  the  quick  Rebekah  loves  the  retiring  Jacob.  On  one 
occasion  Esau  returned  from  hunting,  faint  and  hungry,  just  as 
Jacob  had  prepared  a  mess  of  pottage.  Unaccustomed  to,  and  in- 
capable of,  controlling  the  desires  of  the  moment,  he  impetTiously 
demands  the  dish,  while  the  cunning  and  calculating  Jacob  takes 


THE  SONS  OF  ISAAC.    (§  70.)  '283 

advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  get  his  brother  to  concede  to 
him  his  rights  as  first  born.  (1.) 

(1)  The  narrative  presupposes  that  what  the  di\ane  oracle 
had  formerly  declared,  was  known  to  all  the  parties  interested. 
Only  under  this  supposition  can  we  understand  and  appreciate 
the  conduct  not  only  of  Isaac  and  Eebekah,  but  also  of  Esau  and 
Jacob. 

The  ground  for  the  opposite  preference  of  the  two  parents 
must  mainly  be  sought  in  a  very  common  drawing  towards  an 
opposite  pole.     Instead  of  leading  husband  and  wife,  according 
to  divine  arrangement  and  direction,  to  seek  in  each  other  the 
opposite  counterpart,  it  manifested  itself  in  analogous  preference 
towards  their  chikben.       Isaac,  quiet,  retiruig,  and  timorous, 
discovers  in  the  impetuous  and  wild  Esau  that  strength  and 
resoluteness,  the  want  of  which  he  had  often  painfully  felt  in 
nimself      He  overlooks,  however,  aU  the  godless  excrescences, 
the  perverse  Avildness,  and  the  incapacity  for  receiving  higher 
and  spiritual  impressions,  of  his  first  born.     He  hopes  to  find  in 
him  the  support  of  his  old  age,  and  instead  of  looking  to  G-odfor 
protection  against  outward  enemies  (comp.  §  71)  he  expects  it 
from  his  son.     The  quiet,  retiring,  and  timorous  Jacob  does  not 
inspire  him  wdth  the  same  confidence  as  Esau.     If  once  the  sim- 
plicity and  sincerity  of  his  spiritual  vision  had  become  dim,  how 
readily  might  not  the  divdne  oracle  be  overlooked,  and  Isaac 
persuade  himself  that  there  might  have  been  some  mistake  or 
error  of  persons  about  it !      Besides  the  text  seems  to  indicate 
that  the  preference  of  Isaac  was  partly  due  to  the  savoury  venison 
which  Esau  brought.     On  the  other  hand  the  quick,  impetuous, 
and    decided    Rebekah,    who    sometimes    is    even    hasty   and 
passionate,  feels  herself  drawn  towards  the  quiet  and  outwardly 
timorous  but  cunning  and  astute  Jacob.      Although  her  prefer- 
ence also  arises  from  natural  and  carnal  reasons,  she  can  at  least 
plead  in  her  favour  the  coincidence  of  the  Divine  promise.     As 
strong-minded  women  generally  make  up  by  intriguing  for  their 
want  of  external  strength,  so  Rebekah  finds  the  astuteness  and 
cunning  of  Jacob  a  welcome  assistance  ;  and  thus  it  is  again  the 
ungodly  element  in  Jacob  which  she  takes  into  alliance. 

Tuch  acknowledges  that  the  narrative  "  does  every  justice  to 
the  character  of  Esau,  who  is  othenvise placed  in  the  background, 
and  especially  pourtrays  him  as  an  upright,  straiglitforward,  and 
honest  man."  This  acknowledgment  is  the  more  valuable  as 
coming  from  one  who  continually  objects  that  narrow-minded, 
natural  hatred  appear  in  the  descriptions  Imnished  by  Holy 
Writ.  At  the  sametime  we  must  remark  that  in  this  instance 
his  admission  is  in  a  certain  sense  as  erroneous  as  usually  his  ob- 


\/ 


284  ISAAC.  (§  70.) 

jections  are.  The  description  in  the  text  does,  indeed,  shew  that 
Esau  was  straightforward,  open,  and  honest.  But  it  also  brings 
out  the  dark  sides  of  his  character  and  life,  and  it  does  so  in 
order  to  shew  his  incapacity  for  the  divine  purposes  of  salvation, 
and  to  indicate  the  reasons  why  he  was  rejected  by  Grod.  For 
example,  how  sarcastic  is  the  verdict  implied  in  the  words  with 
wliicli  the  account  closes :  "  He  did  eat  and  drink  and  rose  up 
and  went  his  way  ;  thus  Esau  despised  his  birth-right."  This  is 
especially  noticeable  when  we  think  of  the  infinite  importance 
wliich  the  text  attaches  to  the  right  of  primogeniture  on  account 
of  the  blessing  commonly  connected  with  it.  The  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  wliich  in  one  word  paints  the  character  of  Esau  as  that 
of  a  "  profane  person,"  has  certainly  given  the  meaning  of  our 
passage  much  better  than  Tucli  with  his  well-meant  praise. 

V.  Lengerke  (Canaan  i.  302)  admits  that,  "  in  this  legend  the 
CUNNING  with  luhich  Jacoh  gains  the  right  of  priTimgeniture  from 
his  honest  brother,  and  at  last  even  deprives  him  of  the  blessing 
of  liis  father,  is  represented  as  a  lurong."  Tuch,  however,  objects 
that  in  the  text :  "  the  cunning  and  calculating  conduct  of  Jacob, 
which  might  appear  objectionable  to  a  stricter  moralist,  is  repre- 
sented as  wholly  blameless."  But  in  the  same  manner  it  might, 
for  example,  be  maintained  that  the  text  represented  the  iniqui- 
tous conduct  of  the  sons  of  Jacob  towards  the  inhabitants  of 
Sychem  (chap,  xxxiv.)  as  "  perfectly  blameless."  And  yet  what 
a  sweeping  condemnation  of  it  is  casually  expressed  in  chap. 
xHx.  The  truth  is  that  here,  as  in  other  places,  the  record 
neither  praises  nor  blames,  but  simply  relates  without  disguise 
or  embellishment  what  has  happened,  and  how  it  has  taken  place  ; 
but  at  the  same  time  lays  peculiar  emphasis  on  those  events  in 
which  the  divine  Nemesis,  so  to  speak,  has  pronounced  judgment. 
Hence,  in  the  present  instance,  the  conduct  of  Jacob  is  not 
expressly  blamed.  But  how  very  distinctly  and  unmistakeably 
does  it  appear  in  the  sufferings,  in  the  want,  in  the  labour,  in  the 
trials  of  Jacob,  that  God  had  visited  and  condemned  his  unge- 
nerous cunning  as  an  iniquitous  perversity. 

It  is  more  difficult  to  ascertain  what  Esau  and  Jacob  supposed 
were  siu*rendered  with  the  right  of  primogeniture.  We  know 
that  the  external  rights  of  primogenitm'e  gave  at  least  a  double 
inheritance  (Deut.  xxi.  17),  if  not  more  (Gen.  xxv.  5  and  6),  and 
implied  primacy  over  the  family  (Gen  xlix.  3.)  With  the  latter 
a  third  advantage  was  connected  in  the  family  of  the  patriarchs, 
viz. ,  the  transference  of  the  promised  blessing.  We  can  readily 
understand  that  Esau  attached  no  value  to  the  latter,  and  hence 
did  not  much  care  for  its  loss.  But  it  is  all  the  more  surprising 
that,  for  a  worthless  mess  of  pottage,  he  should  so  readily  have 
given  up  the  two  first-named  material  advantages.      But  on  the 


THE  SONS  OF  ISAAC.    (§  70.)  285 

one  hand  daily  experience  shews  that  hght  minded  persons  will, 
for  the  sake  of  a  momentary  enjoyment,  even  cast  aside  and  dis- 
sipate futnre  material  advantages  and  temporal  possessions. 
Besides,  we  liave  to  bear  in  mind  the  urgent  want  and  the  im- 
petuous desire  of  the  moment  in  one  who  was  so  little  accustomed 
to  control  or  to  deny  himself  the  satisfaction  of  any  lust.  Lastly, 
the  after-course  of  this  history  (chap,  xxvii.)  proves,  whatever 
may  be  said  of  Esau's  former  uprightness,  straightforwardness, 
and  honesty,  that  from  the  decided  preference  of  his  father  for 
him,  he  had  some  latent  expectation  that  the  actual  possession 
of  the  rights  to  wjiich  he  was  entitled  by  his  birth,  would  not  be 
injured  by  this  private  bargain. 

Tuch  (p.  421)  and  Lengerke  (i.  p.  296)  suppose  that  the 
NAME  OF  THE  Edomites  "  was  Undoubtedly  connected  with  the 
Ked  Sea,"  and  that,  therefore,  the  statement  in  the  text  that 
the  name  of  their  ancestor  (Edom)  was  derived  from  the  ex- 
clamation of  Esau  (v.  30),  "Let  me  swallow  of  the  red,  even 
tliis  7'ed,"  was  a  poor  etymological  myth.  But  their  deriva- 
tion of  the  name  is  anything  but  certain.  Indeed,  it  is  highly 
improbable — first,  because  the  designation  Bed  Sea  is  not  of 
Shemitic  but  of  Greek  origin,  and  then,  because  in  ancient 
times  that  name  included  the  whole  southern  sea,  the  Persian 
as  well  as  the  Arabian  Gulf,  while  the  land  of  the  Edom- 
ites only  in  one  place  touched  the  bay  of  one  of  the  gulfs  of 
this  immense  sea.  Those  who  watch  the  origin  of  such  names 
even  in  our  o^\ti  times  will  find  it  the  less  strange  that  Esau 
should  have  derived  a  byename  from  such  an  exclamation,  since 
it  disclosed  at  once  the  unbridled  impetuousness  and  thoughtless- 
ness, the  haste  and  rudeness  of  his  character.  In  general,  it  is 
very  remarkable  how  freipiently  such  byenames,  ai)parently 
derived  from  trivial  and  accidental  circumstances,  characterise 
the  inmost  tendency  of  life,  whether  by  some  strange  concur- 
rence, or  through  an  unconscious  power  of  thvination — and  how 
frequently  therefore  they,  perhaps  sometimes  oddly  enough, 
determine  in  after  life  the  direction  of  the  inner  man  and  the 
history  of  the  individual. 

We  do  not,  indeed,  approve  of  the  attempt  of  so  many  inter- 
preters in  ancient  and  in  modern  times,  to  ivliiteiuash  the  con- 
duct of  Jacob,  or  at  least  to  represent  Ins  motive  as  being 
merely  a  spiritual  desire  after  the  rights  of  primogeniture,  even 
though  the  mode  of  his  conduct  had  been  ungenerous  and  carnal. 
But  neither  can  we  assent  to  the  opinion  which  would  discover 
nothing  but  the  mere  desire  after  material  advantages  in  his 
conduct.  It  was  impossible  that  spiritual  desire  after  the  right 
of  primogeniture  and  an  anticipation  of  the  i)romise  should  have 
been  wliolly  awanting  in  Jacob,  whatever  admixture  of  the  carnal 


'286  ISAAC.  (§  71.) 

mind  and  tendency  there  may  have  been  along  with  it.  The 
influence  of  his  mother,  his  o^vn  retiring  disposition,  and  the 
bright  form  in  which  his  character  afterwards  appears,  aU 
warrant  this  inference.  Despite  his  carnal  devices,  despite  his 
ungenerous  cunning,  Jacob  is  and  remains  called  and  chosen. 
True,  much  sufiering,  sorrow,  wretchedness,  poverty  and  want ; 
much  labour,  care  and  anxiety,  and  much  grace  and  pity  on  the 
part  of  Grod,  are  necessary  to  purify  such  a  character  from  its 
impure  achnixtures,  and  to  sanctify  it  for  divine  purposes — but 
the  more  glorious  does  such  a  character  appear  after  the  gracious 
working  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  The  conjecture  of  Liglitfoot 
(Opera  i.,  p.  IG),  who  connects  this  event  with  the  rise  q/"  prices 
mentioned  at  the  commencement  of  the  following  chapter,  may 
perhaps  deserve  notice  :  "  Ex  textu  veresimile  est,  famem  earn, 
quae  causa  Esavo  fuit,  communicandi  primogeniti  jus,  causam 
quoque  fuisse  Isaaco  ex  sede  propria  exeundi  et  proficiscendi 
aliorsum,  quaesitum  vita3  necessaria.  Apparet  magnum  tunc 
victus  penuriam  fuisse,  redacto  Jacobo  ad  hoc  lentiimi  jusculum, 
Esavo  autem  ad  eas  angustias,  ut  nisi  potiretur  isto  edulio,  fame 
videretur  defecturus." 


THE  PILGRIM-LIFE  OF  ISAAC. 

§  71.  (Gen.  xxvi.) — A  famine  more  grievous  than  that  in  the 
time  of  Abraham  had  visited  the  land  of  Promise.  FolloAving 
the  example  of  his  father,  Isaac  journeyed  southward  to  Gerar 
(§  G3,  1),  intending  thence  to  pass  into  Egypt,  which  was  con- 
sidered the  granary  of  the  ancient  world.  But  Jehovali  appears 
unto  him  (for  the  first  time.)  He  prohibits  him  from  leaving 
the  land  of  his  pilgrimage,  and  formally  and  solemnly  transfers 
to  him  the  blessing  and  promise  given  to  Abraham,  in  all  its 
threefold  bearings  (the  outward  increase  of  his  descendants,  the 
possession  of  the  land,  and  the  salvation  of  all  nations  through 
liim.)  Isaac  therefore  remains  in  Gerar,  and,  finding  his  wife, 
and,  on  her  account,  himself  also  in  danger  from  the  violence  of 
the  people,  like  Abraham  under  similar  circumstances,  he  passes 
Rebekah  as  his  sister.  But  being  less  strong  than  his  father,  he 
is  spared  the  trial  with  which  the  former  had  been  visited. 
Unnoticed  by  Isaac  and  Rebekah,  Abimelech,  the  king  of  the 
country,  had  observed  the  intimacy  between  them,  and  at  once 
inferred  their  real  degree  of  relationship.     Accordingly,  under 


TIIK  I'lLGKIM-LIFJi  OF   ISAAC.     (§  71.)  287 

pain  of  death,  he  interdicts  any  of  his  subjects  from  interfering 
with  them.     The  continuance  of  the  famine  induces  Isaac  to 
attempt  combininf]^  tiUa<;e  witli  his  former  occupation  of  rearing 
cattle.    He  is  blessed  with  an  hundredfold  harvest,  and  he  learns 
that  even  in  a  year  of  scarcity  and  famine,  he  will  not  require 
from  the  land  of  Promise  to  have  recourse  to  Egypt.     His  riches 
increase  to  a  degree  that  the  envy  of  the  Philistines  is  highly 
excited.     Even  Abimelech  is  no  longer  able  to  protect  liim 
against  the  ceaseless  annoyances  to  which  he  is  exposed.     By 
his  advice,  Isaac  leaves  the  city  and  settles  in  the  Valley  of 
Gerar.     But  here  also  the  envy  of  the  shepherds  of  Gerar  leads 
to  incessant  quarrels  about  the  wells  which  Isaac  had  digged. 
Incapable  of  commanding  respect  by  his  appearance,  and  only 
great  in  the  elasticity  of  his  endurance,  Isaac  again  gives  way, 
but  the  persecutions  continue,  and  he  is  at  last  obliged  wholly 
to  leave  that  district,  and   to   remove  to  Beersheba.      There 
Jehovah  a})peared  to  him  a  second  time,   to  comfort  and  to 
encourage  him.    Strengthened  by  this  communication,  and  enjoy- 
ing a  season  of  external  rest,  he  now  erects,  in  his  character  of 
Patriarch  and  Prophet,  an  altar,  and  establishes  tlic  worship  of 
Jehovah,     Abimelech  visits  him  in  order  to  enter  into  covenant 
with  him,  to  which  proposal  Isaac  agrees.     Again  Beersheba 
becomes  a  witness  as  of  the  former,  so  of  the  present  covenant 
(§  63,  8.)     But  scarcely  is  Isaac  free  from  the  external  troubles 
wliich  had  hitlierto  followed  him,  than  domestic  troubles  over- 
take liim.     Esau,  who  had  long  before  mentally  lapsed  into 
heathenism,  now  takes  two  daughters  of  the  Oanaanites  to  wives, 
which  are  a  grief  of  mind  unto  his  parents. 

(1.)  It  is  the  MAIN  ruiiPOSE  of  this  chapter  which  sums  up 
every  thing  recorded  about  the  life  of  Isaac  (so  far  as  it  is  not 
subservient  to  or  absorbed  in  the  history  of  Abraham  or  of 
.Jacob)  on  the  one  liand  to  sketch  in  those  events  the  character 
of  Isaac,  and  on  the  other  to  exhibit  the  peculiar  guidance  of 
this  patriarch  as  occasioned  by  his  moral  and  spiritual  wants. 

Elasticity  of  endurance,  which  does  not  resist  evil  nor  contend 
against  it,  but  by  patience  and  yielding  overcomes  it,  constitutes 
the  FiTNDAMEKTAL  TYPE  of  the  character  of  Isaac,  and  in  this  lies 
his  real  claim  to  greatness.  It  does  not  take  from  this  great- 
ness that  it  is  not  recognised,  indeed  that  it  is  cried  down  by  men 


288  ISAAC.  (§71.) 

generally,  nor  that  in  Isaac  also  it  is  not  wholly  free  from  an 
impure  admixture  of  weakness  and  instability.  All  this  only 
proves  that  as  the  divine  strength  so  the  divine  wealmess  (1  Cor, 
i.)  does  not  manifest  itself  in  all  its  pm'ity  and  elevation  in  any 
man.  On  the  character  of  Isaac  compare  also  Krummacher's 
Notes  on  Sacred  History,  Berlin  1818. 

It  is  certainly  striking  that  the  events  of  A  hraliam's  life,  and 
even  the  resolutions  luhicli  he  took  in  consequence  of  them, 
repeatedly  recur  in  the  history  of  Isaac.  In  the  one  and  in  the 
other  case  there  was  famine  in  the  land  of  Promise.  In  the  one 
case  the  patriarch  actually  passed  into  Egypt,  in  the  other  he 
inteyided  to  do  so ;  in  both  cases  recourse  is  had  to  the  same 
falsehood  by  which  a  wife  is  passed  as  a  sister;  in  the  one  case 
the  wife  is  actually  removed,  in  the  other  tliis  danger  is  happily 
averted  ;  in  one  and  in  the  other  case  a  covenant  is  made  with 
Ahimelech;  in  one  and  in  the  other  case,  we  read  in  part  of  the 
same  stations,  of  the  same  wells,  of  the  same  origin  of  the  name 
Beersheba  ;  wliile  lastly  the  manifestation  of  God  and  the  pro- 
mises appear  in  both  cases  to  have  taken  place  in  the  same 
manner  and  with  the  same  tendency,  and  in  consequence  of  them 
each  of  the  two  patriarchs  erects  an  altar  and  serves  Jehovah. 
Criticism  has  "  long  ago"  "  recognised"  the  unity  of  these  facts, 
which  professedly  had  taken  place  on  two  different  occasions  in 
the  history  of  different  personages,  but  wliich  in  reality  "  are 
only  different  forms  of  one  and  the  same  event."  But  if  these 
facts,  which  legend  has  borrowed  from  the  life  of  Abraham,  in 
order  to  hide  its  lamentable  poverty  and  impotence  in  reference 
to  the  life  of  Isaac,  are  taken  away,  nothing  almost  remains  to 
attach  to  the  life  of  our  patriarch.  Under  these  circumstances 
we  cannot  wonder  that  v.  LengerJce  should  maintain  that  we 
"  have  no  manner  of  guarantee  for  the  historical  existence  of  liis 
personality"  (Canaan  i.,  pp.  290,  291),  the  more  so  as  this  kind 
of  criticism  does  not  attempt  to  trace  the  deeper  bearings  and 
the  natural  points  of  connection  in  this  similarity  of  accounts. 
Still  there  are  such  points,  and  they  are  quite  sufficient  to  remove 
anything  that  may  at  first  sight  appear  incongruous  and  strange. 
First  of  all,  the  events  in  which  the  life  of  Isaac  resembles  that 
of  Abraham,  are  not  as  they  may  appear  merely  accidents,  but, 
in  so  far  as  they  depend  on  the  Providence  of  God,  form  the  sub- 
stratum in  the  divine  educational  process  repeated  because  of  the 
continuance  of  the  reasons  which  had  at  first  occasioned  them. 
So  far  as  they  were  the  result  of  man's  self-determination  or  of 
the  collision  of  existing  circumstances,  they  arose  from  similarity 
in  their  position  and  in  their  character,  or  from  the  continu- 
ance of  certain  circumstances  (comp.  Winer's  Eeal-Lex.  i.,  p. 
615,  3d  edit.  :  "  These  events  are  so  simple  and  so  natural,  con- 


THE  PILOKIM-LIFE  OF  ISAAC.    (§  71.)  289 

sidering  that  age,  that  it  is  impossible  to  think  of  fiction  in 
regard  to  them.")  But  secon  ily,  we  may  not  overlook  that  in 
mcst  of  the  events  recorded,  this  similarity  exists  side  by  side 
with  a  deeper  dis-similarity  wliich  even  amounts  to  contrariety, 
so  that  if  both  were  weighed  not  only  according  to  their  outward 
appearance,  but  also  according  to  their  inward  meaning,  the 
balance  would  incline  towards  the  side  of  dis-similarity.  This 
difference  is  in  itself  perfectly  sufficient  to  set  aside  the  doubts 
as  to  the  existence  of  Isaac,  which  criticism  derives  from  the  defi- 
ciency in  distinctive  sketches  of  his  character  and  history. 

Tlie  more  deficient  Isaac  was  in  outward  energy  and  indepen- 
dence, the  less  was  he  capable  and  called  to  form  the  com- 
mencement of  a  new  development ;  again  the  more  glorious  and 
splendid  the  mighty  example  of  liis  father  must  have  appeared 
to  him,  the  more  would  he  feel  himself  also  warranted  to  follow 
in  the  footsteps  of  Abraham  as  opportunity  offered.  Still, 
although  the  tendency  of  God's  leadings  remained  the  same  in 
both  cases,  how  different  Avere  these  leadings  themselves  and 
their  results,  and  however  similar  the  aspect  of  his  life  to  that 
of  Abraham,  how  different  was  his  inward  and  outward  position, 
owing  to  the  difference  of  character  between  the  two  patriarchs  ! 
As  at  the  time  of  Abraham,  so  now  also  there  is  famine  in  the 
land,  which  had  been  promised  as  a  great  gift  of  mercy  to  them  for 
their  descendants.  In  so  far  as  this  is  a  trial  of  their  faith,  the 
agreement  in  the  two  histories  is  perfect.  Abraham  takes  refuge 
in  Egypt,  and  Isaac  is  about  to  imitate  liim.  But  Abraham  learns 
only  by  the  complications  and  dangers  in  winch  he  is  involved 
that  this  device  was  contrary  to  the  will  of  God.  On  the  other 
hand,  Isaac,  whose  greater  weakness  of  character  would  not  have 
been  equal  to  the  dangers  which  there  threatened  liim,  or  whose 
softness  could  not  have  resisted  the  peculiar  attractions  of  the 
land,  is  by  Divine  intervention  preserved  from  following  the 
device  which  he  had  at  first  conceived.  What  Abraham  coidd 
not  experience,  Isaac  learned  by  the  hundi-ed-fold  harvest  which 
he  reaped,  viz.,  that  even  in  a  year  of  famine  and  failure  the  land 
of  promise  would  yield  a  blessing,  and  manifest  the  reality  of  the 
promise  given  him.  Analogous  and  not  less  apparent  is  the 
difference  between  Abraham  and  Isaac  under  those  circumstances 
which  had  led  to  another  fall  of  Abraham.  That  patriarch 
loses  his  wife.  The  protection  of  God  does  not  preserve  him 
from  this  trial,  although  it  delivers  him  from  dangers  which 
might  thence  have  resulted.  The  weaker  Isaac  is  spared  this 
trial,  and  tlie  protection  of  God  manifests  itself  in  this,  that  the 
falsehood  of  his  pretence  appears  before  it  is  too  late. 

The  similarity  of  their  nomadic  occupations,  and  the  con- 
tinuance of  former  circumstances,  account  for  the  fact  that  in 
both  cases  we  read  of  the  same  stations  and  wells,  and  of  another 

VOL  I.  T 


'290  ISAAC.  (§71.) 

alKance  with  Abimelech.  But  wliat  a  contrast  between  the 
personality  of  Abraham,  who  commands  respect,  and  the  patient 
yiekhng-  of  Isaac.  People  do  not  interfere  with  the  rights  and 
privileges  of  Abraham,  but  Isaac  must  give  place  before  continual 
hostilities  and  interferences,  &c. 

(2.)  We  add  some  explanations  on  special  points.  Most  of 
those  interpreters  who  believe  in  the  historical  reality  of  the 
events  here  recorded,  suppose  that  the  Abimelech  of  Isaac  was 
another  person  from  the  cotemporary  of  Abraham  (§  63.)  The 
equality  of  name  does  not  militate  against  this  supposition,  as  it 
is  weU  ascertained  that  "  Abimelech,"  and  chief  captain  "  Fhicof 
are  not  the  names  of  persons,  but  of  offices.  Thus  it  -^dll  scarcely 
be  supposed  that  the  Pharaoh,  king  of  Egypt,  who  lived  at  the 
time  of  Joseph,  was  the  same  person  as  he  who,  at  the  time  of 
Moses,  is  designated  by  that  name.  StiU,  we  believe  with  Tuch 
that  the  Abimelech  of  Abraham  was  the  same  as  that  of  Isaac, 
because  a  careful  examination  will  shew  that  the  chronological 
reasons  urged  for  their  non-identity  are  not  conclusive.  If  we 
bear  in  mind  that  Abraham  died  at  the  age  of  175,  Sarah  at 
that  of  127,  Isaac  at  180,  and  Jacob  at  147,  we  shall  infer  that 
their  cotemporaries  also  may  have  attained  an  age  extending 
beyond  one  centmy.  The  meeting  of  Abraham  with  Abimelech 
took  place  shortly  before  the  birth  of  Isaac.  From  that  period 
sixty  years  elapsed  to  the  birth  of  Esau  and  Jacob,  and  seventy- 
five  years  to  the  death  of  Abraham.  The  meeting  of  Isaac  and 
Abimelech  therefore  must  have  taken  place  about  eighty  years 
after  that  between  the  latter  and  Abraham.  If  Abimelech  was 
from  forty  to  sixty  years  old  at  the  first  meeting,  he  would  have 
been  between  120  and  140  at  the  second.  This  appears  the  more 
probable,  as  on  the  former  occasion  Abimelech  liimself  had  pur- 
posed taking  the  wife  of  Abraham,  while  on  the  latter  he  is  only 
afraid  that  one  of  the  people  might  do  injury  to  Eebekah.  He 
appears  therefore  to  have  been  very  old  at  tliat  time. 

It  is  very  remarkable  how  the  name  Eehoboth,  which  Isaac 
gave  to  one  of  the  wells  he  had  digged  (verse  22),  is  preserved 
in  the  Wady  er-Buhaiheh,  which  Robinson  (vol.  i.,  p.  196)  dis- 
covered about  mid-way  between  Wady  Jerar  (Grerar)  and  the 
Wady  es-Seba'  (Beersheba),  at  that  very  point  in  the  wilderness 
where  the  roads  to  Gaza  and  Hebron  diverge.  Here  that 
traveller  also  found  the  ruins  of  a  city  which  must  anciently  have 
been  of  some  note.  However,  Robinson  does  not  identify  these 
two  places,  because  he  thinks  that  Isaac's  well  must  have  been 
farther  north,  and  because  there  is  no  mention  in  Scripture  or 
elsewhere  of  a  city  connected  with  Eehoboth.^     But  as,  according 

1  The  Author  has  omitted  to  mention  that  Robinson  argues  against  the 
identity  of  these  two  places,  also  on  the  ground  that  in  Ruhaibeh  there  was 


THE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC.    (§  71,  72.)  291 

to  verses  22  and  23,  Isaac  is  already  on  the  journey  from  G-erar 
to  Beersheba,  the  situation  of  er-Ruhaibeh  agrees  very  well  with 
that  of  Rehoboth. 

Similarly,  Robinson  discovered  (i.,  p.  204),  in  the  nortjiern 
portion  of  Wady  es-fSel)a',  near  to  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  Beer- 
sheba,  two  deep  wells,  which  agrees  with  the  statement  that  the 
servants  of  Isaiic  had  digged  a  second  well  beside  that  of  Abraham. 
"  These  wells  are  some  distance  apart ;  they  are  circular,  and 
stoned  up  very  neatly  with  solid  masonry,  apparently  much  more 
ancient  than  that  of  the  wells  at  'Abdeh.  The  longer  one  is 
twelve  and  a  half  feet  in  diameter,  and  forty-four  and  a  half  feet 
deep  to  the  sm-face  of  the  water ;  sixteen  feet  of  Avhich  at  the 
bottom  is  excavated  in  the  solid  rock.  The  other  well  lies  fifty- 
five  rods  W.S.W.,  and  is  five  feet  in  diameter,  and  forty-two  feet 
deep.  The  water  in  ])oth  is  pure  and  sweet,  and  in  great  abun- 
dance ;  the  finest  indeed  we  had  found  since  lea\dng  Sinai.  Both 
wells  are  surrounded  with  drinking  troughs  of  stone,  for  camels 
and  flocks,  such  as  were  doubtless  used  of  old  for  the  flocks 
whicli  then  fed  on  the  adjacent  hills.  The  curb  stones  were 
deeply  worn  by  the  friction  of  the  ropes  in  drawing  up  water  by 
hand."  From  the  23^'olepsis,  "  therefore  the  name  of  the  city  is 
Beersheba  unto  this  day,"  it  is  by  no  means  clear  that  at  the  time 
of  Isaac,  as  at  that  of  Joshua  (Josh.  xv.  28),  a  town  had  stood 
in  that  valley.  The  very  value  attaching  to  these  weUs  may 
liave  been  the  occasion  for  building  a  city  there. 

(4.)  The  circumstance  that  Esau  married  two  Canaanitish 
WIVES  shews  (comp.  chap.  xxiv.  3  and  xxvii.  46)  how  much  he 
had  become  estranged  from  the  religious  hopes  and  views  of  the 
chosen  family.  If  anything,  this  should  have  opened  Isaac's  eyes 
to  the  j)erversity  of  liis  preference  for  Esau. 


THE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC. 

§  72.  (Gen.  xxvii.  1 — 20.) — Meantime  old  age  and  its  troubles 
have  come  over  Isaac.  His  eyes  have  become  dim,  and  thoughts 
of  his  approaching  departure  fill  his  soul.  He  therefore  feels 
impelled,  in  the  exercise  of  his  patriarchal  and  paternal  power, 
formally  and  solemnly  to  transfer  the  right  of  primogeniture  to 
his  favourite  (1),  and  so  to  bring  tliis  important  and  still  dubious 
and  unanswered  question  to  a  definite  and  unchangeable  decision, 

no  well,  "  the  inhabitants  having  been  apparently  supplied  with  rain  water 
by  means  of  cisterns."  However,  the  balance  of  probabilities  seems  to  us  in 
favour  of  Dr  Kurtz's  view. — 'J'he  Tr. 

T  2 


292  ISAAC.  (§  72.) 

thereby  making  an  end  to  all  farther  machinations  on  the  other 
side.  The  patriarch  requests  Esau  to  go  out  to  the  field  to  take 
fiome  venison,  and  to  make  him  such  savoury  meat  as  he  loved, 
that  his  soul  might  bless  him  before  he  died.  But  the  prudent 
and  watchful  Eebekah,  who  had  long  apprehended  something  of 
that  land,  had  been  an  unobserved  witness  of  this  interview. 
Her  faith,  her  hope,  and  love  induce  her  to  stake  ever)i;hing  in 
order  to  prevent  the  purpose  of  her  husband  from  being  carried 
out.  Another  hour,  and,  humanly  speaking,  the  fairest  hopes  of 
her  ■  life  are  destroyed — ^lier  beloved  Jacob  is  cast  out,  the  wild 
and  careless  Esau  blessed,  and  the  promise  which  she  had  ob- 
tained from  the  Lord  set  at  nought.  The  only  human  hope  now 
lies  in  quick  resolution,  and  in  equally  decided  action,  and 
Rebekah  is  equal  to  such  an  emergency.  She  has  neither  the  time 
nor  the  inclination  closely  to  examine  her  faith  and  love,  her 
hopes  and  fears,  or  to  sift  the  suggestions  of  her  carnal  wisdom. 
The  moment  is  pressing,  and  her  plan  is  ready.  Jacob  is  to  take 
advantage  of  the  dimness  of  liis  father's  sight,  he  is  to  pass  him- 
self for  Esau,  and  thus  to  take  away  the  blessing  which  otherAvise 
had  been  denied  to  liim.  Jacob  hesitates  to  enter  into  his 
mother's  plans.  To  his  timorous  and  calculating  mind  the  deed 
appears  too  bold  and  too  dangerous.  How  easily  might  the 
deceit  be  discovered,  and  he  bring  a  curse  instead  of  a  blessing 
on  himself.  But  Eebekah  quiets  Iris  doubts.  She  readily  takes 
the  curse  upon  herself,  for  she  feels  certain  that  she  only  carries 
out  the  will  of  God,  and  in  her  mind  the  ungodliness  of  the 
means  employed  disappears  in  ^'iew  of  the  importance  of  the 
object  which  to  her  seems  in  accordance  with  the  will  of  Grod  (2.) 
In  haste  two  kids  of  the  goats  are  made  savoury  meat,  such  as 
Isaac  loves  ;  Jacob  is  arrayed  in  the  garments  of  Esau,  and  his 
neck  and  hands  are  covered  with  the  skins  of  the  kids,  that  the 
smoothness  of  his  skin  may  not  betray  his  identity.  Thus  dis- 
guised, Jacob  brings  the  savoury  meat  to  liis  father.  But  he 
has  a  difl&cult  part  to  play.  Various  circumstances  make  the 
old  man  suspicious.  His  commission  has  been  too  quickly 
executed,  and  then  the  voice  is  that  of  Jacob.  But  the  lies  of 
Jacob,  his  boldness,  the  roughness  of  his  hands,  and  the  raiment 
of  Esau,  mislead  the  old  man.  In  truth  another,  whose  honour 
is  also  concerned  in  the  matter,  efiects  it  that  Isaac  gives  up  his 


THE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC.    (§  72.)  293 

well-grounded  distrust.  The  Patriarch  cats  of  the  supposed 
venison,  he  drinks  of  the  wine  which  Jacob  brings  him,  he  kisses 
him  (3),  and  when  he  smelled  the  smell  of  his  raiment  he  blessed 
him,  and  said : 

"  See  the  smell  of  my  son  is  as  the  smell  of  a  field  which  Jehovah 

has  blessed ! 
God  give  thee  of  the  dew  of  heaven  and  of  the  fatness  of  tha 

earth, 
Plenty  of  corn  and  of  wine  !    * 
Let  people  serve  thee, 
And  let  nations  bow  down  to  thee  ! 
Be  thou  lord  over  thy  brethren. 
And  let  thy  mother's  sons  bow  down  to  thee ! 
Cursed  be  every  one  that  curseth  thee. 
And  blessed  be  he  that  blesseth  theo  !"  (4.) 

(1.)  This  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  complications  of  life, 
shewing  in  the  clearest  manner  that  a  higher  liand  guides  the 
threads  of  history,  so  that  neither  sin  nor  error  can  ultimately 
entangle  them.  Eacli  one  weaves  the  threads  which  are  com- 
mitted to  him  according  to  his  own  views  and  desires,  but  at  last 
when  the  textvn-e  is  complete  we  behold  in  it  the  pattern  which 
the  master  had  long  before  devised,  and  towards  which  each 
labourer  had  only  contributed  one  or  another  feature.  We  first 
direct  attention  to  the  import  of  the  blessing,  Avhich  Isaac 
feels  impelled  to  25ronounce.  There  is  something  peculiar  and 
mysterious  about  the  blessing  and  the  curse  of  parents.  Each 
word  of  blessing  and  of  curse  into  which  the  wiiole  strength  and 
fulness  of  the  Psyche,  the  seat  of  personality  and  of  will,  descends, 
has  a  kind  of  magic  power  (conip.  Lasaulx  on  the  curse  among 
the  Greeks  and  Romans,  Wiirzljurg  1843.)  It  is  the  magic 
attaching  to  the  image  of  God  in  man,  imp.irted  to  him  in 
creation,  and  which  sin  lias  only  weakened  and  darkened  but  not 
wholly  effaced,  as  language  is  the  royal  sceptre  of  man.  The 
blessing  or  the  ciu'se  o'l  parents  approximates  the  creative  power 
from  which  this  magic  at  first  originated.  For,  as  generation 
is  a  representation  of  the  Divine  creative  power,  so  is  education 
and  the  ruling  of  chihh'en,  of  the  Divine  governing  and  judg- 
ing power,  and  so  long  as  tlie  world  shall  continue  will  this 
word  of  the  ancient  sage  prove  true:  "The  blessing  of  the 
fixther  builds  the  children's  houses,  but  the  curse  of  th.e  mother 
pulls  tluMn  down."     Rul   tho  blessing  of  the  pafrinyrjis  in  the 


294  ISAAC.  (§  72.) 

chosen  famil}^  leads  us  beyond  the  sphere  of  nature  to  that  of 
grace.     In  virtue  of  the  covenant-relation,  which  in  this  case 
pervades  and  determines  everything,  the  pneumatic  power  of  the 
Divine  counsel  of  salvation  is  here  joined  with  the  psychical 
power  of  a  father's  blessing  or  curse.     Human  freedom  is  here 
allied  with  Divine  necessity.     Here  man  is  not  suffered  to  act 
arbitrarily,  but  the  capability  of  the  human  will,  now  pm-ified, 
is  endowed  with  the  strength  of  Divine  omnipotence  ;  and  thereby 
the  blessing  or  the  cm'se  becomes  irrevocable  and  unchangeable. 
What  Jehovah  said  to  the  prophet  (Jeremiah  i.  9  and  10)  applies 
also  to  the  prophetic  blessing  or  cursing  of  the  patriarchs : 
"  Behold  I  put  my  words  in  thy  mouth.     See,  I  have  this  day 
set  thee  over  nations  and  over  kingdoms,  to  root  out  and  to  pull 
down,  and  to  destroy  and  to  thi'ow  down,  to  build  and  to  plant." 
Abraham  was  called  to  become  the  ancestor  of  the  chosen  race, 
and  as  such  God  Himself  invested  him  with  the  fulness  of  blessing, 
which  was  to  be  gradually  unfolded  through  his  descendants. 
According  to  §  49,  2,  the  law  of  separation  was  to  exercise  its 
sway  until  in  the  course  of  development  the  pure  kernel  should, 
as  it  were,  be  set  free  from  all  husks,  i.e.,  until  that  ancestor 
would  appear  ivliose  entire  'posterity  should,  without  any  sepa- 
ration from  among  them,  become  the  medium  for  preparing 
salvation.     Hence  imtil  tliis  goal  was  attained,  the  formal  inves- 
titure with  the  Divine  calling  and  blessing,  i.e.,  the  selection  and 
setting  apart  to  become  the  ancestor  of  the  promised  seed,  had 
each  time  to  be  expressly  transferred  from  father  to  son,  that  so 
one  should  be  always  fixed  upon  (as  the  chosen),  and  the  other 
set  aside  (as  separated  or  excluded.)     But  as  the  whole  of  this 
development  depends  on  the  covenant-relation,  the  investitm-e 
must  equally  be  made  hy  both  parties  to  the  covenant,  i.e.,  the 
patriarchs  as  the  possessors  of  the  calling  at  the  time  must  ratify 
the  investiture  as  well  as  Jehovah,     Abraham  had  per  factum 
done  this  when  Ishmael  was  cast  out  (chap,  xxi.),  and  when  the 
whole  of  his  inheritance  was  given  to  Isaac  (ch.  xxv.  5.)     After 
that  any  further  investiture  hy  words  was  needless.    But  Jehovah 
expressly  invests  Isaac  (ch.  xxvi.  2  to  5.)     Again,  as  one  of  the 
two  sons  of  Isaac  was  to  be  separated,  it  was  necessary  that  both 
parties  should  again  bestow  this  formal  investitm-e.     In  the 
account  under  consideration  this  is  done  by  Isaac,  and  soon  after 
it  is  ratified  by  Jehovah  (ch.  xxviii.  13 — 15.)     If  it  is  objected 
that  the  formal  investiture  was  invalid  because  the  intention  and 
the  thoughts  of  Isaac  were  directed  towards  another,  we  ansAver 
that  Isaac  afterwards  expressly  repeated  it  (ch.  xxviii.  3  and  4.) 
Besides  it  requires  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  even  when  Isaac 
first  gave  the  blessing,  his  inmost  sj^iritual  tendency  was  in  the 
right  direction,  and  that  the  ray  of  his  intention  would  have 


THE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC.    (§  72.)  295 

fallen  upon  Jacob,  if,  in  passing  through  the  dark  medium  of  his 
carnal  preference,  it  had  not  been  broken  and  thus  diverted  from 
its  real  aim.  This  unhealthy  divergence  on  the  part  of  Isaac 
was  counteracted  by  the  deceit  of  Jacob,  who  placed  himself 
where  the  diverted  ray  fell  upon  him.  Thus  wrong  is  punished 
by  wrong,  and  the  positive  appears  through  the  medium  of  two 
negatives.  So  far  from  any  interference  with  the  freedom  of 
Isaac,  this  circumstance  set  him  free  from  the  bonds  in  which  he 
was  held ;  for  when  properly  viewed,  his  carnal  intention  was  as 
much  opposed  to  his  own  as  to  Jacob's  interests.  When  this 
carnality  is  circumvented,  what  in  liim  had  been  merely  arbitrary 
is  sanctified  and  elevated  into  real  and  true  freedom.  Isaac 
deceived  to  appearance  is  not  deceived  in  deed  and  in  truth. 

(2.)  Entering  more  particularly  into  the  share  of  each  party 
IN  THIS  TRANSACTION,  wc  gather  that  all  four  were  guilty  of  sin 
and  of  error.  But  tlie  more  clearly  appears  from  this  both  the 
firmness  and  the  security  of  the  divine  counsel,  as  despite  these 
liindrances,  that  which  Grod  had  intended  actually  took  place. 
Isaac  feels  disposed  and  impelled  to  bless,  and  this  is  an  evidence 
of  his  faith,  and  position  within  the  covenant.  He  must  bless, 
but  he  is  mistaken  in  him  whom  lie  is  about  to  bless.  His 
carnal  preference  gives  a  peculiar  taint  to  his  view  of  the  circum- 
stances, and  liis  mind  is  averted  from  the  proper  to  a  wi'ong 
object.  Viewed  in  this  light,  the  right  of  nature  which  is  in 
favour  of  Esau,  appears  to  him  as  outweighing  every  other  con- 
sideration. The  Divine  oracle  which,  even  before  the  sons  were 
born,  had  decided  the  question,  the  rude  and  profane  disposi- 
tion of  Esau,  the  careless  sale  of  his  right  of  primogeniture,  the 
rehgious  indilferentism  which  he  had  displayed  in  the  choice  of 
his  wives,  and  all  the  grief  of  mind  which  the  latter  had  caused 
to  him,  coidd  not,  in  the  opinion  of  Isaac,  take  away  the  right  of 
birth.  He  had  put  his  heart  into  the  scale,  and  therefore  this 
right  appeared  to  him  invested  with  an  indelible  character. 
Thus  hiti  faith,  which  shews  itself  in  the  desire  to  bless,  appears  in 
the  garb  and  under  the  form  of  a  carnal  intention.  Still  it 
existed,  and  the  flesh  having  been  Inimbled,  it  ultimately 
obtained  the  victory.  Esau  had  no  right,  either  divine  or  human, 
to  claim  the  patriarchal  blessing.  The  outward  right  which  his 
birth  might  have  given  liini,  had  from  the  first  been  taken  away 
by  Him  who  rules  the  course  of  nature,  and  Esau  himself  had, 
by  a  formal  sale,  ceded  it.  Hence,  the  blame  of  circumventing 
their  father  for  the  inheritance  attached  to  Esau  more  than  to 
Jacob.  But  the  issue  places  him  in  the  right  position  which 
God  had  destined  for  him.  He  storms  and  thi-eatens,  but  soon 
submits  to  what  cannot  be  altered.  Rebekah  was,  indeed,  in  a 
difficult  position.     She  knows  that  God  had  destined  the  bless- 


296  ISAAC.  (§  72.) 

ing  for  her  younger  son.  Tliis  consciousness  had  hitherto  been 
her  hope,  her  joy  and  her  support,  but  now  all  this  was  to  be 
swept  away.  Under  these  circumstances  she  is  ready  to  try 
anything  which  promises  to  secm'e  her  object.  She  attempts 
the  only  possible,  although  extremely  precarious,  means  which 
offered.  It  is  a  proof  of  her  faith,  of  her  trust  in  God's  assistance, 
and  of  her  confidence  that  God  would  not  allow  His  promise 
to  fail,  that  she  raises  her  plans  on  so  dangerous  a  foundation, 
exposes  herself  and  Jacob  to  such  peril,  and  boldly  undertakes  a 
venture  which,  according  to  human  calculation,  it  was  ten  to 
one  must  miscarry.  Had  she,  indeed,  possessed  that  power  of 
faith,  which  on  ]\Iount  Moriah  could  lift  the  knife  against  that 
only  son  with  whom  ail  promises  were  connected,  without  in  the 
least  doubting  either  the  promise  or  Him  who  had  given  it — 
had  she  taken  counsel  of  God  instead  of  her  own  carnal  wisdom 
— had  she,  instead  of  attemj)ting  to  dehver  herself,  committed 
her  cause  to  Him  who  had  undertaken  it,  no  doubt,  as  on  Mount 
Moriah,  so  in  Isaac's  closet,  a  miraculous  interposition  on  the 
part  of  God  would  have  averted  the  danger  and  established  the 
promise.  But  it  was  not  Eebekah's  way,  in  quiet  faith,  to  wait 
for  help  from  A\ithout  and  from  above,  so  long  as  she  could  help 
or  coimsel  herself.  If  God  does  not  interpose  with  His  power, 
she  is  ready  to  assist  with  her  wisdom  and  strength.  This  per- 
verseness  and  unbelief  arose  from  the  circumstance  that  the  glory 
of  God  Avas  not  her  only  aim,  and  the  fulfilment  of  His  will  not 
her  sole  object,  but  that  she  sought  also  her  own  honour  and  the 
gratification  of  her  own  desire.  The  moral  state  of  Jacob  was 
similar  to  that  of  Eebekah.  Tuch  remarks :  "  Truly  it  needed 
a  gTeat  deal  of  impudence  to  reply  to  the  question  of  his  father, 
manifestly  prompted  as  it  Avas  by  real  anxiety,  '  Art  thou  my 
very  son  Esau  f  by  a  bold  '  /  am!  "  And  Lidhier  remarks  on 
verses  20  and  21,  "I  should  probably  have  run  away  from  terror 
and  let  the  dish  fall."  But  what,  we  ask,  gave  to  Jacob,  who 
was  natm-ally  so  timorous,  and  who  clearly  realised  both  the 
greatness  of  the  danger  to  which  he  exposed  himself,  and  the 
improbability  of  success,  according  to  human  calculation  (verses 
11  and  12) — the  needed  strength  to  stand  this  close  examina- 
tion, on  the  part  of  the  distrustfid  old  man,  -without  betraying 
himself,  either  by  anxiety  or  by  want  of  confidence  ?  Certainly 
only  faith  in  the  divine  promise,  which  could  not  fail.  But  Jacob 
also  is  awanting  in  full  streng-th  of  faith,  and  in  unconditional 
confidence  of  trust.  He  also  thought  that  he  must  assist  the 
Lord,  lest  His  counsel  should  perish,  and  in  liis  case  also  this 
arose  from  not  seeking  the  glory  of  the  Ijord  alone.  In  this 
instance  ali=o  the  text  expresses  neither  approbation  nor  disap- 
}irobation.     But  the  Nemesis  of  history  apportions  to  each  of  the 


THE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC.    (§  72.)  297 

foiu'  parties  cuuccnied  their  piiniislimerit.  Isaac  and  Esau  imme- 
diately feel  tlie  consequences  of  their  conduct ;  Rebekah  and 
Jacob  soon  afterwards.  Just  because  her  plan  had  been  success- 
ful, Rebekah  nmst  send  away  her  favourite  during  the  dark  of 
the  night,  destitute  and  hel]:)less,  nor  will  she  ever  behold  his 
face  again.  The  deceit  of  Jacob  is  repaid  him  in  the  same  coin 
(§76),  and  much  sorrow,  anxiety,  labnur,  and  want,  are  the  con- 
sequences of  his  godless  cunning. 

(3.)  With  reference  to  the  preparations  for  the  blessing, 
it  appears  strange  wliy,  before  pronouncing  the  blessing,  Isaac 
should  have  demanded  meat  such  as  he  loved.  It  will  not  do 
to  set  it  down  to  the  score  of  Isaac's  liking  for  good  living 
(chap.  XXV.  28) — the  meat  demanded  must  somehow  have  had 
some  essential  connection  with  the  blessing.  This  would  be  the 
case  if  it  were  possible  to  regard  the  meal  as  a  covenant-feast ; 
and,  explaining  it  (Bdlir  Syinb.  of  the  Mosaic  Worship,  ii.  p. 
273 ;  The  Author's  Mosaic  Sacrifice,  p.  103,  &c.),  as  a  repre- 
sentation of  joyous  commimion,  and  as  thus  oftering  a  sym- 
bolical basis  for  this  blessing.  But  if  this  had  been  the  case, 
both  parties,  he  that  blessed  find  he  who  was  blessed,  must  have 
joined  in  it,  while  the  record  only  bears  that  Isaac  had  eaten  and 
drunk  (v  25.)  Nothing,  therefore,  remains  but,  according  to 
the  analogy  of  similar  circumstances,  to  suppose  that  Isaac  had 
wished  to  excite  his  animal  spirits,  and  to  predispose  himself  for 
pronouncing  a  blessing,  by  partaking  of  savoury  meat  and  drirdi- 
ing  wine  ;  in  a  manner  siniilarto  that  in  which  Elislia  wished  to 
encourage  and  to  excite  himself  for  prophetic  ins])iration  by 
nuisic  (2  Kings  iii.  15  ;  comp.  1  Sam.  x.  5,  10  ;  xvi.  15 — 23.) 
This  appears  the  more  likely  as,  irrespective  of  its  acceptal)le- 
ness,  the  gift  desired  was  one  of  love,  an  expression  of  the  attach- 
ment of  tlie  son  to  liis  father  ;  just  as  the  blessing  was  an  expres- 
sion of  the  tenderness  of  the  father  for  his  son.  Hence,  the 
transaction  represents,  that  reciprocity  which  is  characteristic  of 
love :  the  son  gives  to  the  father  what  lie  can  give,  and  what  is 
pleasant  and  dear  to  the  father,  that  in  turn  the  father  may  feel 
the  more  inqielled  to  give  to  the  son  what  Ite  has  to  give  to  him 
and  what  is  pleasant. 

To  prevent,  if  possible,  the  discovery  of  the  deceit,  Rebekah 
clothes  her  favourite  with  the  garments  of  Esau.  The  older 
interpreters  regarded  this  as  a  peculiar  or  priestlij  dress,  inas- 
nuich  as  Esau,  the  first  l)orn,  had  administered  priestly  functions 
in  the  family  of  Isaac  (Gen.  xlix.  3.)  But  the  text  does  not 
give  the  slightest  hint  to  warrant  such  a  supposition.  Besides, 
it  should  be  remembered  that  such  an  arrangement  would  have 
been  calculated  for  the  sight  of  Isaac,  while  the  actual  device 
was  polely  resorted  to  v^ntli  a  view  to  his  smellhu^  (v.  27,  "  he 


298  ISAAC.  (§72.) 

smelt  the  smell  of  his  garments.")  Michaelis  ("  Notes  for  the 
Unlearned,"  ii.,  p.  127)  thinks  that  it  refers  to  the  custom 
among  the  Arabians  of  perfuming  their  dress.  But  although 
this  practice  is  referred  to  in  Psalm  xlv.  9,  and  in  the  Song  of 
Solomon  iv.  11,  it  cannot  have  been  alluded  to  in  the  circum- 
stances under  consideration  (see  v.  27.)  We  must  therefore 
agree  with  Tuch,  that  an  aromatic  smell  of  the  herbs,  flowers, 
and  other  produce  of  the  field,  must  have  been  felt  off  the  gar- 
ments of  Esau,  who  was  "  a  man  of  the  field"  (chap.  xxv.  27)  ; 
a  sujjposition  this  which  involves  no  difficulty,  considering  that 
the  country  was  so  rich  in  aromatic  and  smelling  herbs.  Equally 
apparent  was  the  propriety  of  covering  the  hands  and  the  neck 
of  Jacob  ^dth  the  skins  of  the  kids,  where,  however,  we  must 
bear  in  mind  that  they  were  not  such  goats  as  are  common  in 
Europe.  "  The  text  refers  to  the  Eastern  Camel-goat,  the  black 
and  silky  hair  of  wliich  was  also  used  by  the  Romans  for  false 
hair— Martial,  xii.  46."     Tuch. 

But  it  is  altogether  mistaken  to  suppose  with  Tuch  that 
"  Isaac  demanded  a  hiss  (v.  26),  in  order  thereby  to  distinguish 
the  shepherd  who  would  smell  of  the  flock  from  the  huntsman 
who  would  smell  of  the  field."  After  Isaac  has  partaken  of  the 
meal,  he  has  given  up  all  distrust  (v.  25.)  The  kiss  is  only  the 
expression  of  paternal  love,  excited  by  having  partaken  of  the 
savoury  disli ;  it  is  the  acme  of  his  now  overflowing  emotions  and 
the  transition  to  the  blessing. 

(4.)  The  difference  apparent  on  comparing  this  blessing  given 
BY  Isaac  to  Jacob,  with  the  blessing  given  by  Jehovah  to 
Abraham  and  to  Isaac,  is  both  remarkable  and  characteristic. 
The  two  former  contain  a  threefold  reference  (§  71.)  In  the 
present  instance  only  the  two  first  promises — ^the  possession  of 
the  land  and  political  power — are  here  repeated.  The  third 
point,  that  of  being  the  medium  of  salvation  to  the  nations,  is 
only  alluded  to  in  the  words  "  Blessed  is  every  one  ivhich  blesses 
thee" — loords,  it  will  be  remembered,  which,  when  the  blessing 
was  first  given  to  Abraham  (chap.  xii.  3)  formed  the  transition  to 
the  highest  point  in  the  promised  blessing.  It  would,  therefore, 
appear  as  if  Isaac  had  not  as  yet  reached  that  purely  spiritual 
elevation  in  the  promise,  and  as  if  he  had,  therefore,  clung  in 
preference  to  the  more  concrete  and  material  aspect  of  it,  or  else, 
as  if  in  his  view,  the  two  had  been  inseparably  identical. 
Although  the  blessing  of  Isaac  is  prophetic,  it  is  limited  in 
expression  by  that  stage  of  knowledge  and  of  religious  conscious- 
ness wliich  he  liimself  occupied.  The  main  point  in  the  mind 
of  Isaac  was  the  future  relation  between  the  two  brothers, 
and  this  gives  to  the  blessing  its  peculiar  form,  contents,  and 
hmits. 


THE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC.    (§  73.)  299 

§  73.  (Gen.  xxvii.  30 — 40.) — Scarcely  had  Jacob  gone  away 
after  obtaining  the  blessing,  than  Esau  came  with  the  venison 
which  he  had  prepared.  Isaac  trembled  exceedingly.  But  his 
heart  does  not  revolt  against  Jacob's  cunning  deceit,  nor  does  he 
change  the  stolen  blessing  into  a  curse — ^he  rather  says :  "  I  have 
blessed  him  and  he  shall  remain  blessed."  The  darkness  which 
had  gathered  around  his  inward  sight  was  now  being  dispelled. 
He  recognises  the  finger  of  God  who  had  averted  the  danger 
threatening  from  his  error  and  liis  sin.  He  sees  that  without 
knowing  it  he  liad  blessed,  not  according  to  his  own  will,  but  by 
the  authority  and  according  to  the  will  of  God.  Now  for  the 
first  time  also  Esau  seems  to  have  some  apprehension  of  the  great- 
ness of  that  salvation  wliich  he  had  so  lightly  despised.  He 
almost  becomes  sentimental,  he  cries,  and  says :  "  Hast  thou  but 
one  blessing,  my  father  ?  Bless  me  also,  0  my  father  \"  And 
the  soul  of  Isaac  once  more  wings  itself  to  the  heights  of  pro- 
phetic vision,  and  he  says  : 

"  Behold  thy  dwelling  shall  be  without  fatness  of  the  earth, 
And  without  the  dew  of  heaven  from  above.   (1.) 
But  by  thy  sword  shalt  thou  live  and  shalt  serve  thy  brother  ; 
Yet  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  as  thou  shakest  it  thou  shalt  break 
his  yoke  from  off  thy  neck  !"  (2.) 

(1.)  The  word  ^^  in  the  prophetic  declaratton  of  Isaac 

may  be  rendered  by  "  without"  or  ^^  far  from."  This  rendering- 
is  grammatically  correct,  and  demanded  by  the  context  (comp. 
Eioald's  Larger  Grammar,  §  217.  b.  p.  408.)  For,  in  verse  37, 
Isaac  complains  that  he  had  no  more  corn  nor  wine  to  give,  and 
in  the  prophecy  itself,{emphasis  is  laid  on  the  chcumstance  that 
Esau  is  to  live  by  his  sword.  The  authorised  version  (as  well 
as  that  of  Lutlie^-)    renders  "j^^,  as  verse   28,  "  thy   dwelling 

shaU  be  the  fatness  of  the  earth,  and  of  the  dew  of  heaven  from 
above."  But  although  tliis  view  is  defended  by  modern  critics, 
it  neither  agrees  with  the  context,  nor  is  it  grammatically  cor- 
rect, as  in  that  case  a  ^  would  liave  stood  before  ^ni^^'i^  (as  in 

verse  28.)  But  tlie  point  in  the  blessing  lies  in  this,  that  so  far 
as  possible  the  same  expressions  as  formerly  are  chosen  to  desig- 
nate an  opposite  state  t'f  matters.      For  an  analogous  instance 


300  ISAAC.   (§  73.) 

we  refer  to  chap.  xl.  13  as  compared  with  verse  19.  If  it  is 
objected  that,  according  to  our  interpretation,  the  words  of  Isaac 
would  imply  a  curse  rather  than  a  blessing,  we  allow  that  this 
statement  is  at  least  in  part  correct.  But  the  text  does  not  any- 
where designate  this  as  a  blessing,  nor  if  it  did  would  such  a 
designation  have  been  wholly  incorrect.  For,  the  promise  that 
Esau  was  to  live  by  his  sword,  and  that,  although  he  was  to  serve 
his  brother,  he  should  at  a  future  period  throw  off  the  yoke  from 
his  neck,  implies  that  the  curse  changes  into  a  kind  of  blessing. 
Again,  the  remark  of  von  Gerlach  that  our  rendering  is  opposed 
"  to  philology,  to  history,  and  geography,"  is  partly  ungrounded 
and  partly  based  on  evidence  which  is  not  to  the  point.  It  may, 
indeed,  be  true,  as  Buckhardt  has  it,  vol.  ii.  p.  702,  that  "the 
declivities  of  Mount  Seir  are  covered  with  corn  fields  and 
orchards,"  and,  as  Robinson  remarks,  vol.  ii.  p.  154,  that  "  the 
mountains  on  the  east  appear  to  enjoy  a  sufficiency  of  rain,  and 
are  covered  with  tufts  of  herbs  and  occasional  trees.  The  Wadys, 
too,  are  full  of  trees,  and  shrubs,  and  flowers  ;  while  the  eastern 
and  higher  parts  are  extensively  cultivated,  and  yield  good  crops." 
But  it  is  equally  true  that  Seetzen  (BosenmuUer,  Antiq.  ii.  1,  p. 
150),  from  personal  observation,  describes  the  country  as  "  per- 
haps the  most  desolate  and  sterile  mountain  in  the  world."  And 
Robinson  himself  expressly  states  that  the  western  mountains 
"  are  ivholly  desert  and  sterile."'  And  this  must  have  been  the 
general  impression  produced  by  a  sight  of  the  country,  as  the 
prophet  Malachi  says  in  the  name  of  Jehovah  (chap.  i.  3)  :  "I 
hated  Esau,  and  laid  his  mountains  and  his  heritage  waste,  for 
the  dragons  of  the  wilderness."  Under  the  circumstances,  Isaac 
is  only  disposed  prophetically  to  regard  the  sterile  aspect  of  the 
land  of  Esau.  But  this  does  not  imply  that  the  country  had  not 
its  fairer  and  more  fertile  districts.  This  very  one-sidedness  and 
this  partial  incongruity  between  the  blessing  and  its  fulfilment 
is  an  evidence  of  the  authenticity  of  the  event  recorded. 

We  shall,  therefore,  not  adopt  the  new  interpretation  proposed 
by  Delitzsch,  according  to  whom  the  ^  in  "^tj^^II^D  ^^  ^*^'^  ^  Pro- 
position but  a  letter  used  for  transforming  the  word  into  a  nomen. 
He  translates:  "  Behold,  fatness  of  the  earth  shall  be  thy  dwell- 
ing, and  of  the  dew  of  heaven  from  above  shalt  thou  live."  Against 
this  view  we  not  only  urge  our  former  observations,  but  also  this, 
that  we  do  not  anywhere  meet  with  such  a  word,  and  that  the 
parallelism  between  t^Ji^tTl^  ^^'^  hw2'  demands  that  in  both  cases 

the  }2  should  be  taken  as  a  preposition. 

(2.)  Delitzsch  rightly  observes,  that  although  the  blessing  of 
Esau  seems  only  a  diminished  curse  when  compared  with  that  of 


THE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC.    (§  74.)  301 

Jacob,  it  still  introduces  an  element  of  diminution  into  the  latter, 
so  that  thereby  the  improper  means  used  for  obtaining  that 
blessing  were  punished.  For  it  will  be  noticed  that  it  implies  a 
continuous  and  not  unsuccessful,  though  ultimately  vain,  reaction 
on  the  part  of  Esau  against  the  blessing  of  Jacob.  And,  in  point 
of  fact,  the  historical  relation  between  Edom  and  Israel  was  one 
of  continual  alternation  of  submission,  of  rebellion,  and  of  re- 
newed subjection. 


§  74.  (Gen.  xxvii.  41 — xxviii.  10.) — In  his  wrath  Esau 
threatens  to  slay  Jacob.  Rebekah,  ever  watcliful,  obtains  tid- 
ings of  this  purpose,  and  knowing  her  son  sufficiently  to  fear  his 
quick  revenge  only  for  the  moment,  she  urges  Jacob  hastily  to 
fly  to  Laban  her  brother,  promising  to  inform  him  whenever 
Esau's  anger  had  allayed.  She  prudently  spares  Isaac,  and 
does  not  communicate  to  him  the  proximate  cause  of  Jacob's 
journey.  Hence  she  lays  special  emphasis  on  the  other  aim  of 
his  journey  on  wliich  she  was  no  less  intent,  \'iz.,  that  Jacob 
should  take  a  wife  of  the  daughters  of  Laban  (1.)  Too  keenly 
does  Isaac  feel  the  grief  which  Esau's  Canaanitish  wives  had 
caused  him,  not  at  once  and  cordially  to  have  seconded  such  a 
proposal ;  the  more  so  as  he  has  now  perceived  that  in  many 
respects  he  had  been  unjust  to  Jacob,  and  has  learned  to  regard 
him  as  the  person  in  whom  the  promised  race  is  to  be  continued. 
As  formerly,  unconsciously  and  in  prophetic  emotion,  so  now  con- 
sciously, and  of  set  purpose  he  transfers  the  blessing  of  Abraham 
to  the  son  whom  he  had  erst  neglected,  and  sends  liim  away  with 
the  injunction  not  to  take  a  wife  of  the  daughters  of  Canaan. 
When  Esau  learned  this,  he  takes  unto  the  wives  wliich  he  already 
had  a  daughter  of  Ishmael  (2),  in  order  to  remove  the  dis- 
like which  his  father  felt  towards  liis  Canaanitish  wives.  A  new 
evidence  this  of  his  kindliness  and  yielding  chsposition,  but  also 
of  his  Umited  knowledge,  betra}ing  also,  by  his  foolish  mistakes 
in  the  choice  of  means,  how  thoroughly  deficient  he  was  in  under- 
standing the  religious  position  of  his  family,  to  which  he  only 
belonged  by  external  descent,  not  by  inward  calling. 

(1.)  Combining  Genesis  xlvii.  9,  xlv.  6,  xli.  46,  and  xxx.  22 — 
25  we  gather  that  Jacob  was  seventy-seven  years  old  at  the 


302  ISAAC.  (§  74.) 

time  of  his  flight  to  Mesopotamia.  It  must  appear  to  us  very 
strange  that  he  had  remained  so  long  unmarried — even  though 
we  make  allowance  for  the  circumstance  that  at  the  time  mar- 
riages seem  to  liave  taken  place  at  a  later  period  of  life  (Esau 
only  married  in  his  fortieth  year.)  But  liistory  furnishes  seve- 
ral data  to  account  for  this  delay.  From  the  conduct  of  Abra- 
ham (Gren.  xxiv.  1  &c.)  we  gather  that  the  marriage  of  sons  was 
under  the  immediate  supervision  of  the  father — a  custom  tliis, 
to  which  Esau,  in  his  careless  temper,  did  not  submit.  But  the 
indifference  of  Isaac  towards  Jacob  manifested  itself  in  tliis  re- 
spect also,  nor  was  the  influence  of  Rebekah,  considering  the 
disagreement  between  her  and  her  husband,  sufficient  to  induce 
the  patriarch  to  take  such  a  step  in  deference  to  her  wishes. 
Jacob  had  certainly  resolved  not  to  marry  a  daughter  of  the 
Canaanites,  and  nothing  was  left  to  him  but  to  submit  in  j)atience, 
which  was  the  more  easy  as  the  tenderness  of  his  mother  in 
measure  compensated  for  the  want  of  the  affections  of  a  wife. 
(A  similar  relation  had  obtained  between  Isaac  and  Sarah.)  A 
certain  kind  of  criticism  objects  to  the  double  motive  in  tliis 
journey  of  Jacob,  and  infers  that  the  narrative  is  the  composi- 
tion of  tAvo  diff'erent  authors,  one  of  whom  (the  original  record) 
"  knows  nothing  of  the  dispute  between  the  brothers,  and  derives 
the  journey  of  Jacob  to  Mesopotamia  from  other  motives."  In 
another  place  (compare  the  author's  Unity  of  Genesis,  p.  151, 
&c.)  we  have  sufficiently  proved  that  "the  supplementary"  as  well 
as  the  "  original  text"  represent  the  journey  of  Jacob  as  a  hasty 
/lighf. 

(2.)  On  the  so-called  contradictions  in  the  names  of  the 
WIVES  OF  Esau  in  Genesis  xxxvi.  2  as  compared  with  xxvi.  34 
and  xxviii.  9,  compare  also  Ranhes  Investigations,  i.  p.  245, 
and  Hengstenherg's  Contrib.  iii.  p.  273,  &c.  We  refer  especially 
to  the  ingenious  explanations  oflered  hj  the  latter,  which  have, 
in  our  opinion,  removed  the  principal  difficulties.  Tuch,  indeed, 
thinks  (p.  429),  "  that  it  is  impossible  by  any  interpretation  to 
reconcile  these  contradictory  statements."  But  tliis  opinion 
must  appear  the  more  hasty  that  he  himself,  and  Stdhelin  I.e.,  are 
obliged  to  refer  the  two  accounts,  supposed  to  be  contradictory,  to 
one  and  the  same  author  ("  to  the  original  record.")  The  state 
of  matters  is  as  follows.  According  to  chap,  xxxvi.  2  and  3 
Esau  had  tlii'ee  wives : 

1.  Adah,  the  daughter  of  Elon  the  Hittite. 

2.  Aholibamah,  the  daughter  of  Anah,  the  daughter  (= 

grand-daughter  ?)  of  Zibeon  the  Hivite  (Horite  ?) 

3.  Bashematli,  the  daughter  of  Ishmael,  the  sister  of  ^e- 

bajoth. 


TPIE  BLESSING  OF  ISAAC.    (§  74.)  303 

According  to  chaps,  xxvi.  34,  and  xxviii.  9  the  following  were 
his  three  wives : 

1.  Jndith,  the  daughter  of  Beer i  the  Hittite. 

2.  Bashemath,  the  daughter  of  Elon  the  Hittite. 

3.  3Iahalath,  the  daughter  of  Ishmael,  the  sister  of  Ne- 

hqjofh. 

Except  in  the  case  of  Aliolihamah,  Avho  is  once  mentioned  as 
the  daughter  of  Anah  and  another  time  as  that  of  Beeri,  the 
names  of  the  tathers  are  identical.  Banke  (1.  c.)  and  JVelte  (in 
Herbst's  Introd.  i.,  p.  2G6)  propose  to  solve  this  difficulty  by 
supposing  that  Anah  was  her  mother  and  Beeri  her  father,  in 
which  case  the  apposition  "the  daughter  of  Zibeon  the  Hittite" 
(chap,  xxxvi.  2)  would  refer  to  Anah  and  not  to  Aholibamah. 
But  against  this  view  we  have  the  fact  that  the  name  of  the 
mother  does  not  anyv>'here  occur  in  the  genealogies  instead  of 
that  of  the  father,  except  under  very  speci(d  circumstances. 
Besides,  a  comparison  with  xxxvi.  34  and  the  analogy  of  verse  3, 
where  the  expression  "  sister  of  Nebajotli"'  must  of  course  neces- 
sarily refer  to  Bashemath,  are  all  opposed  to  this  theory.  Nothing 
else  would  therefore  be  left  but  to  render  p^  by  grand-daughter, 
in  which  sense  it  also  occurs  in  other  places.  But  Hengstenherg 
has  sliewn  that  it  is  very  probable  that  Anah  and  Beeri  ai'c  two 
names  of  one  and  the  same  personage.  In  the  genealogy  of  the 
Horites,  who  possessed  Mount  Seir  before  Esau  (in  chap,  xxxvi. 
24),  the  name  Anah  occurs,  of  whom  it  is  said :  "  This  was  that 
Anah  that  discovered  the  warm  springs  in  the  wilderness  (pro- 
bably the  warm  baths  of  Callirrhoe — comp.  Friedreich,  Notes  to 
the  Bible,  i.  44,  &c.  ;  the  authorised  version  and  Lidher  translate 
falsely  '  that  found  tlie  mules  in  the  wilderness')  as  he  fed  the 
asses  of  Zibeon  his  father."  Even  the  identity  of  the  name  of 
his  flither  would  be  a  presmnption  in  favour  of  the  identity  of 
Anah  and  Beeri.  To  the  same  conclusion  points  also  the  name 
Beeri  =  man  of  springs,  which  manifestly  refers  to  the  remark- 
able event  in  the  wilderness,  from  which  he  derived  that  name. 
Hengstenherg  remarks  that  "  in  the  narrative  that  name  is  used 
by  which  the  man  was  commonly  designated  among  his  cotem- 
poraries,  since  that  must  important  event  of  his  life  was  in  some 
respects  identified  with  liim.  Whoever  saw  him  inmiediately 
thought  of  the  warm  springs.  But  his  proper  name  Anah  occurs 
in  the  genealogy  in  chap,  xxxvi.,  as  in  a  genealogical  point  of 
view  it  could  never  be  set  aside  by  any  bye-name."  The  diffi- 
culty from  the  cii-cumstance  that  in  chap,  xxxvi.  2  Anah  is 
described  as  a  Hivite,  in  xxxvi.  20  as  a  Horite,  and  in  xxvi.  34 
as  a  Hittite,  cannot  counter-balance  the  above  remarkable  coin- 


304  ISAAC.   (§  74.) 

cidence.  For  the  name  Hittite  is  frequently  used  sensu  latiori 
as  =  Canaanite  in  general,  and  the  difference  between  chap, 
xxxvi.  2  and  verse  20  can  easily  be  removed  as  proposed  by  J. 
D.  Michaelis  and  by  Bertlieau  (Two  Essays  towards  the  History 
of  Israel,  p.  150)  by  changing  the  -i^pf  (of  verse  2)  into  i-^n. 
which  is  not  only  warranted  but  required  by  the  identity  of  the 
names  Anah  and  Zibeon  in  the  two  passages  of  that  chapter. 
But  as  everything  else  is  quite  plain,  the  opinion  that  in  chap, 
xxxvi.  other  wives  were  meant  must  be  set  aside  as  wholly 
ungrounded,  and  the  difference  between  the  names  accounted  for 
from  the  frequency  with  which  especially /e?wa?e  names  in  the 
East  were  changed  (comp.  Rosenmilller,  the  East  in  Anc.  and 
Mod.  Times,  i.,  p.  63,  and  Jahn's  Arch.,  ii.,  p.  281.)  Probably 
the  change  of  names  took  place  when  they  were  married.  Heng- 
stenherg  also  rightly  points  out  that  in  chap,  xxxvi.  all  the  wives 
of  Esau  bear  different  names,  and  infers  that  the  change  in  all 
the  names  shews  that  it  proceeded  not  from  any  mistake  on  the 
part  of  the  writer.  He  concludes  that  all  the  three  had  got  new 
names  on  the  occasion  of  then*  marriage,  Avhen  they  left  their 
own  families. 

(3.)  Thus  by  his  own  choice  as  well  as  in  the  development  of 
history,  Esau  is  removed  from  connection  ivith  the  histor-i/  of  the 
covenant.  His  communion  with  the  chosen  family  had  always 
been  only  external.  He  had  always  been,  and  he  remained  a 
stranger  to  its  higher  interests,  to  its  calhng  and  destiny.  He 
went  his  oion  ivays,  and  that  even  while  he  remained  in  his 
father's  house,  and  was  yet  invested  with  the  outward  and  natural 
claims  to  be  the  head  of  his  family.  His  total  exclusion  from 
the  chosen  family  is  only  the  completing  of  his  former  tendency. 
But,  like  Lot  and  Ishmael,  he  thereby  becomes  really  a  heathen. 
From  the  first,  and  even  before  we  have  studied  the  life  of  Jacob, 
we  can  fully  understand  the  choice  of  Jacob  and  the  rejection  of 
Esau.  Hengstenherg  (Contrib.  iii.,  p.  538,  &c.)  has  aptly  shewn 
this :  "Any  one  capable  of  deeper  ^aews  will  certainly  not  dream 
that  Esau  would  have  been  better  adapted  than  Jacob  to  become 
the  medium  of  Divine  revelations.  Esau  is  the  representative 
of  natural  kindliness  and  honesty,  but  these  qualities  are  joined 
to  rudeness  and  to  a  want  of  susceptibility  for  what  is  higher. 
He  is  void  of  all  anticipation  and  longing.  He  is  satisfied  with 
what  is  visible ;  in  short  he  is  a  profane  person  (Heb.  xii.  16.) 
Such  persons,  even  if  grace  reaches  their  hearts,  which  was  not 
the  case  with  Esau,  are  not  adapted  for  heading  a  religious 
development.  For  the  latter  purpose  not  only  is  such  faith 
necessary,  to  wliich  any  individual  may  attain,  but  faith  also  as 
a  x^pia-jxa,  wliich  presupposes  a  natural  substratum  not  found 
in  characters  such  as  that  of  Esau.     The  natural  disposition  of 


THE  BLEfJSINO  OF  ISAAC.    (§  74. )  305 

Jacob  is  much  more  complex  than  that  of  Esau.  Tliere  are 
many  folds  and  corners  in  his  heart,  Avliich  himself  and  others 
find  it  difficult  thoroughly  to  examine,  while  a  man  like  Esau 
may  be  pretty  well  known  in  the  course  of  an  hour.  Jacob  is 
mild  and  pliable,  sensitive  and  susceptible  for  every  contact  with 
a  higher  world ;  always  disposed  and  ready  to  see  the  heavens 
opened  and  the  angels  ascending  and  descending.  But  at  the 
same  time,  as  in  all  characters  in  whom  the  imaginative  jjrevails, 
he  is  also  apt  to  deceive  himself,  he  is  under  strong  temptation 
to  dishonesty,  prone  to  cunning,  and  without  sufficient  openness. 
God  took  tliis  man  into  his  own  training,  to  remove  the  many 
shadows  always  found  when  there  is  much  light.  Under  this 
training  alone  is  it  possible  really  to  learn,  and  in  that  school 
Jacob  became  Israel,  while  Esau,  who  was  incapable  of  any  such 
training,  remained  to  the  end  only  Esau." 

(4.)  After  this  event,  Isaac  lived  other  forty-three  years.  But 
he  no  more  appears  on  the  stage  of  covenant-history,  as  Jacob 
takes  up  the  tlu-ead  of  farther  development,  the  promise  hav- 
ing now  devolved  on  him.  The  text  only  records  that  he  was 
gathered  to  his  fathers  when  180  years  old  and  full  of  days, 
and  that  he  was  buried  in  the  cave  of  Macphelah  by  Esau  and 
Jacob,  whom  he  was  privileged  to  see  once  more  standing  as 
reconciled  brothers  by  his  death-bed.  Wlien  Jacob  left,  his 
father  dwelt  at  Beersheba.  The  desire  to  be  nearer  to  his 
paternal  place  of  sepulchre  may  probably  have  been  the  ground 
of  his  later  settlement  in  Mamre,  where  he  died  (chap.  xxxv.  27 
to  29.)  Kebekah,  who  at  parting  had  so  confidently  promised 
Jacob  to  let  him  know  whenever  Esau's  anger  was  appeased,  had 
probably  died  soon  after  her  favourite  had  left.  At  least  the 
promised  message  was  never  delivered,  nor  is  her  name  mentioned 
on  Jacob's  return. 


\J 


VOL.  I. 


(  ;^o7 ) 


THIRD  STAGE  IN  THE  FAMILY  HISTORY. 

JACOB. 
FLIGHT  OF  JA(JOB  TO  MESOPOTAMIA. 

§  75.  (Gen.  xxviii.  11,  &.) — Jacob  tarried  all  night  in  the 
open  air,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Luz  (§  51.  6.)  Kesciied  from 
imminent  danger,  torn  from  the  embrace  of  an  affectionate 
mother,  and  far  from  his  father's  house  with  which  the  promise 
was  connected — poor  and  forsaken,  his  prospects  for  the  future 
unsettled,  he  laid  him  to  rest,  weary  and  worn  with  care.  But  in 
a  dream,  (1)  he  beholds  a  ladder  which  reached  to  heaven.  The 
angels  of  God  ascended  and  descended  on  it,  and  Jehovah  Him- 
self stood  above  it  (2.)  He  reveals  Himself  to  Jacob  as  the 
God  of  Abraham  and  of  Isaac,  invests  him  with  the  threefold 
covenant-blessing,  and  promises  to  keep  him  in  all  his  ways,  and 
to  bring  him  again  into  the  land  which  he  was  now  about  to 
leave.  When  he  awakes,  his  soul  is  still  filled  witli  the  awe 
occasioned  by  the  presence  of  the  Lord.  He  exclaims,  "  How 
dreadful  is  this  place  !  This  is  none  other  but  the  house  of  God, 
and  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven  I"  He  pours  oil  on  the  stone  on 
which  his  head  had  rested,  and  sets  it  up  for  a  pillm'  (3.)  He 
called  the  name  of  that  place  Bethel,  and  vows  on  his  return  to 
convert  that  stone  into  a  house  of  God,  and  thereby,  on  his  2yart 
also,  to  make  the  name  which  he  had  given  to  the  place  a 
reality  (4.) 

(1.)  The  dream  of  Jacob  is  not  merely  natural  but  prophetic  ; 
it  is  the  medium  of  di^'ine  revelation  and  promise.  But  the 
inward  state  of  Jacob  at  the  time  formed  its  natural  basis.  This 
dream  appears  much  more  significant  when  we  recall  to  mind 
the  feelings  with  which  he  would  lay  him  down  to  rest.  Thoughts 
accusing  and  excusing  one  another  would  overwhelm  him  and 
refuse  to  be  controlled,  amid  the  unwonted  solitude  and  in  the 

u2 


308  JACOB.  (§  75.) 

loneliness  of  his  position,  as  night  gathered  around  him,  and  all 
circumstances  conspired  to  make  him  look  into  the  depth  of  his 
soul.  The  present  weighs  on  him  as  a  cm'se  which  he  had 
di'awn  on  liimself ;  nor  is  the  dark  futm'e  before  him  as  yet  lit 
up  by  a  single  ray  of  di^dne  promise.  He  has,  indeed,  obtained 
the  blessing  of  his  father,  but  only  by  cunning  and  deceit,  nor 
has  the  divine  sanction  been  as  yet  given  to  it.  Consciousness 
of  guilt,  remorse  of  conscience,  doubts,  cares,  and  anxieties  of 
various  kinds,  only  tended  to  deepen  his  sense  of  lonelmess.  If 
he  is  not  to  desjjair,  he  requires  to  be  comforted  and  strength- 
ened from  on  high.  And  this  is  now  done.  The  cbeam  and  its 
vision  are  the  reply  of  God  to  the  cares  and  anxieties  with  which 
he  has  lain  down  to  rest. 

(2.)  The  meaning  of  this  vision  will  be  evident.  It  em- 
bodies in  a  symbol  that  which  the  di^ane  promises  (verses  13  to 
15),  of  which  it  is  the  basis,  declare  in  words.  It  forms  a  bridge 
between  heaven  and  earth.  Below,  is  the  poor,  helpless,  and 
forsaken  man — ^a  representative  of  human  nature  with  its  in- 
ability and  helplessness.  But  the  angels  of  God  ever  descend  to 
bring  him  help,  and  again  ever  ascend  to  fetch  new  deliverance. 
Above,  Jehovah  Himself  stands  upon  it.  By  the  promise,  "  I  will 
bless  thee,  and  in  thee  (and  in  thy  seed)  shall  all  the  families  of 
the  earth  be  blessed,"  He  connects  the  goal  with  the  commence- 
ment of  that  development,  so  that  this  forsaken  and  helpless 
man  is  to  become  the  som-ce  of  blessing  and  the  medium  of  sal- 
vation to  the  whole  world.  It  is  thus  that  the  ladder  connects 
heaven  ivith  earth,  and  Jacob  at  the  foot  of  it  with  Jehovah 
ahove  it.  The  ladder  which  connects  heaven  with  earth  repre- 
sents tYiQ  pt^omise,  which  equally  joins  heaven  and  earth,  which 
brings  down  and  imparts  the  powers  of  heaven  to  man,  as  the 
medium  of  the  promise,  yea,  and  in  virtue  of  which,  Jehovah 
Himself  comes  down  in  order  that  by  His  covenant  and  co-opera- 
tion with  him  who  is  the  medium  of  the  promise,  the  goal  might 
be  attained  and  all  the  families  of  the  earth  blessed  in  him.  All 
this,  so  far  as  Jacob  was  concerned,  lay  only  in  germ  and  unde- 
voloped  in  the  promise.  But  looking  back  on  its  fidtilment  ive 
know  that  tliis  goal  was  to  be  attained  by  the  descent  of  the  ful- 
ness of  the  personal  God  into  helpless  and  disabled  human 
nature,  through  the  incarnation  of  God  in  Ckrist.  Baumgar- 
ten  (Com.  i.  1.  p.  263)  is  therefore  right  in  saying  that  not  the 
ladder  but  Jacob,  on  whose  account  the  ladder  connected  heaven 
and  earth,  was  a  symbolic  representative  of  Christ.  But  equally 
right  are  Luther  and  Calvin  in  regarding  the  ladder  in  the 
light  of  John  i.  52,  and  viewing  it  as  a  representation  of  the 
mysteiy  of  the  incarnation  of  God.  Since  the  ladder,  in  the  first 
place,  represents  the  promise  by  which  the  divine  strength,  and 


b 


FLIGHT  OF  JACOB  TO  JIKSOFOTAMIA.    (§  75.)  309 

ultimately  Ood  Him.self,  is  brought  from  heaven  to  eiirth,  it  is 
also  at  the  f-umetime  a  representation  of  the  manner  in  which 
(iod  successively  descends  fi-om  heaven  and  ultimately  becomes 
man.  Thus,  viewed  ohjectivcJy,  the  vision  of  Jacob  becomes  a 
grand  survey  and  summary  of  the  history  of  the  Old  Covenant. 
As  Jacob  now  commences  the  course  of  his  independent  covenant- 
development,  so  Jehovah  also  appears  standing  on  the  uppermost 
step  of  the  ladder,  commencing,  as  it  were,  His  descent.  Again, 
as  the  last  step  of  the  ladder  is  by  the  side  of  Jacob,  it  is  plain 
that  He  is  descending  to  Jacob  (as  tlie  ancestor  and  rei^resen- 
tative  of  tlie  chosen  race.)  But  the  whole  history  of  the  Old 
Covenant  is  nothing  else  than,  on  the  one  hand,  a  successive 
descending  on  the  part  of  Grocl,  until  He  becomes  incarnate  in 
the  seed  of  Jacob,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  a  successive  ascent 
of  Jacob  and  of  his  seed,  until  it  becomes  capable  of  receiving 
within  itself  the  personal  fulness  of  the  divine  nature. 

(3. )  Jacob  called  the  place  where  this  apparition  was  vouch- 
safed (verse  19)  Bethel  (the  House  of  God.)  Tlie  city  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  was  at  the  time  called  Luz  (comp. 
§  51,  G.)  The  descendants  of  the  patriarchs  transferred  the 
name  of  Bethel  to  that  city.  Of  course  the  Canaanites  did  not 
care  for  this,  and  continued  to  call  it  Luz.  The  heathen  name 
was  only  al^rogated  after  the  occupation  of  the  land  by  Joshua. 
Even  in  Joshua  xvi.  2  (the  boundary  "  goetli  out  from  Bethel  to 
Luz")  Bethel  the  place  is  distingui^ihed  from  Luz  the  city  (comp. 
Heyigstenben/,  Conivih.  iii.,  p.  200,  &c.)  Jacob  dedicates  the 
stone  on  which  his  head  had  rested,  and  converts  it  into  a^^Z/Zov 
or  monument  by  pouring  oil  on  the  top  of  it.  The  outward 
import  of  this  action  is  to  distinguish  the  stone,  with  a  view  to 
the  time  when  in  virtue  of  the  vow  it  was  to  become  a  house  of 
Clod.  But  in  accordance  with  the  views  })revalent  throughout 
the  whole  Old  Testament,  this  action  nmst  also,  and  pre-eminently, 
have  had  an  inward  and  synd)olical  meaning.  Tlie  s}anbolical 
use  of  oil  as  an  emblem  of  the  S})irit  of  God,  who  enlightens, 
revives,  and  heals,  is  derived  from  the  use  of  oil  in  common  life 
among  Orientals.  In  the  East  it  is  employed  for  giving  flexi- 
l)ility,  freshness,  and  health,  for  alleviating  pain  and  healing- 
diseases,  for  giving  a  flavour  to  food,  and  also  for  light.  Hence 
to  pour  oil  over  anything  symbolised  its  dedication  to  God  and  to 
Divine  pur])oses,  as  also  the  communication  of  Divine  strength 
to  it  necessary  for  such  dedication  (comp.  Bahr,  Symbolic  ii.,  p. 
171,  &c.)  The  erection  of  a  stone  monument  (n35J?2!)  J^oi"  I'^'li- 
gious  purposes  by  Jacob  invites  a  comparison  of  this  action  \\'itli 
the  worslup  of  sncli  Mazeboth  in  heathenism.  In  itself  the 
erection  of  stones  to  be  monuments  and  signs  in  remembrance 
of  religious  events  and  ideas  is  so  natural  and  unimportant  that 


310  JACOB.  (§  75.) 

we  can  scfircely  wonder  that  heathenism  and  Judaism  shared 
that  practice,  wliether  independently  of,  or  in  some  connecti(jn 
with,  each  other.     Stone  was  the  most  lasting,  unchangeable, 
immoveable,  and  imperishable  material.     Hence,  it  was  specially 
adapted  to  become  a  witness  to  coming  centuries.     But  this  very 
peculiarity  must  have  lent  a  particular  religious  meaning  to 
stone  in  the  worship  of  nature,  which  regarded  all  natural  objects 
as  the  forms  in  which  the  spirit  of  nature  appeared.     Be  it 
noticed  that  no  object  in  nature  expresses  so  distinctly  as  the 
stone  the  idea  of  a  blind  and  inexoralile  natural  necessity,  not 
animated  by  consciousness,  by  pre-intended  and  rational  volition, 
not  moved  by  any  feeling  of  pleasure  or  of  sorrow,  of  sympathy 
or  of  pity,  but  following  its  unalterable  course  without  regard  to 
any  other  consideration  whatever.     But  this  idea  is  the  central 
point  in  what  is  characteristic  of  the  worsliip  of  nature,  where 
free  and  personal  will  is  absorbed  in  absolute  unity  with  the 
eternal  necessity  of  the  law  of  nature.     Thus  in  heathenism 
stone  was  the  representation  of  the  Deity,  in  so  far  as  the  latter 
was  regarded  as  the  dark  and  impersonal  fate  which,  with  in- 
exorable necessity,  presided  over  life.     But  Judaism  from  the 
first  shared  not  in  any  way  these  views  of  the  Deity ;  indeed 
they  were  distinctly  and  consciously  opposed  to  the  reKgion  of 
the  Old  Testament.     Hence,  in  making  use  of  stone  for  religious 
purposes,  Judaism  could  only  do  so  on  account  of  the  adaptation 
of  that  material  for  becoming  a  lasting  and  unchangeable  monu- 
ment, and  a  token  of  remembrance — a  use  this  equally  warrant- 
able and  appropriate.     It  was  equally  natural  and  suitable,  at 
least  in  the  case  of  the  patriarchs,  that  places  which  had  been 
set  apart  by  such  monuments  as  sacred,  and  as  standing  in 
closer  relation  to  God  (either  on  account  of  a  revelation  or  some 
other  manifestation  of  mercy  which  had  been  there  vouchsafed) , 
should  also  have  been  specially  selected  by  cotemporaries  or 
descendants  for  tlie  purposes  of  Divine  worship.     Afterwards, 
under  the  law,  every  use  of  the  Mazeboth  for  the  purposes  of 
Divine  worship  was  repeatedly,  and  in  the  most  stringent  terms, 
interdicted  as  a  heathen  abomination  (Ex.  xxiii.  24,  xxxiv.  13 ; 
Lev.  xxvi.  1  ;  Deut.  xii.  13,  xvi.  22,  &c.)     This  prohibition  was 
not  merely  directed  against  the  heathen  view,  by  which  the 
stone  appeared  as  a  representative  of  the  Deity,  but  also  against 
the  worship  of  Jehovah  in  the  neighbourhood  (^f  these  Mazeboth, 
which  had  been  allowed  at  the  time  of  the  patriarchs — and  that 
because  any  such  worship  was  an  ungodly  and  heathen  opposition 
to  the  sole  and  lawful  sanctuary  in  the  tabernacle.     The  worship 
of  the  Betylia,  declared  to  have  been  stones  (meteoric  stones?) 
tliat  had  fallen  from  heaven,  among  which  the  black  stone  in 
the  Kaaba  in  ]\rocc;i  also  Mony-s,  is  a  later  form  of  this  heathen 


Jacob's  SOJOURN  IN  MESOPOTAMIA.  (§  7C.)  311 

worship  of  stones.  The  luime  ^anvKia  reminds  us  so  clearly  of 
the  name  Bethel  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  doubt  a  connec- 
tion between  the  two.  But  as,  according  to  very  distinct 
evidence,  the  worship  of  the  Betylia  arose  among  the  PhoenicianB 
(the  Canaanites),  we  can  readily  conceive  that  as  heathenism  was 
always  prepared  to  adopt  foreign  forms  of  worship,  tlie  pouring 
of  oil  by  Jacob  on  the  stone  at  Bethel  may  liave  been  the  first 
starting-point  of  the  later  worsliip  of  the  Betylia.  Hence  those 
ancient  wiiters  (such  as  Bochart,  Vossius,  &c.)  who  derived  it 
from  a  Ka/co^rjXla  on  the  part  of  the  Canaanites,  may  not  have 
been  ^oholly  in  the  wrong.  On  the  worship  of  the  Betylia 
generally,  comp.  Bocharf,  Phaleg.,  ii.  2,  2,  p.  707,  &c. ;  Winer, 
s.  V.  Stones;  Be  Wette,  Archaeology,  §  192.^ 

(4.)  The  question  has  been  raised  to  whom  Jacob,  when 
MAKING  HIS  vow,  meant  to  pay  tithes  from  all  those  things 
which  he  owed  to  the  protection  and  blessing  of  God.  By  the 
law  the  tithes  were  given  to  the  priests,  and  through  them  to 
God.  But  as  in  tlie  family  of  the  patriarchs  there  was  no  special 
priesthood,  but  themselves  discharged  such  duties,  this  circum- 
stance has  been  deemed  an  objection  to  tlie  authenticity  of  the 
narrative.  It  is  true  that  the  reply  connuonly  given  that  Jacob 
had  meant  to  use  it  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  common  among 
the  Israelites  every  third  year,  when  the  tithes  were  employed  in 
a  feast  (Deut.  xiv.  28,  29),  is  somewhat  improbable.  We  rather 
suppose  that  the  words  imply  that  he  meant  therewith  to  erect 
the  promised  house  of  God,  to  preserve  and  to  maintain  it,  and 
to  discharge  the  expenses  connected  with  the  worship  there. 


JACOBS  SOJOURN   IN  BIESOPOTAMIA. 

§  7G.  (Gen.  xxix.  1 — 30.) — At  a  well  near  Haran  Jacob  meets 
with  Rachel,  Laban's  daughter,  who  was  leading  her  father's 
sheep  to  tlie  watering-place.     With  overflowing  heart  he  falls 

1  Wc  take  this  opportunity  of  bringinj^  before  the  reader  a  curious  discovery, 
for  whicli  we  are  indebted  to  the  wisdom  of  Mr  Sorensen,  in  Kid  (Conim.  on 
Genesis,  p.  232,  &c.^  The  history  of  the  heavenly  ladder  and  of  the  Mazebah 
was  only  invented  m  order  to  claim  for  Jacob,  as  if  he  had  introduced  it  into 
Babylon,  the  invention  of  the  sun-clock,  which  is  commonly  ascriljed  to  the 
15abylonians.  The  heavenly  ladder  with  its  steps  meant  the  hour  marks  in 
that  clock,  and  the  setting  up  of  the  Mazebah  was  nothing  else  than  the 
setting  up  of  that  sun  dial  after  the  model  of  that  visionary  revelation. 
"  From  the  statement  that  Jacob  had  k'uned  his  head  on  or  upon  the  stone, 
we  may  infer  that  t!ie  sun  dial  in  Bethel  had  a  globe  or  a  semi  globe  at  the 
top.  Perhaps  on  this  globe  the  degrees  were  marked,  and  this  may  also  have 
given  occasion  to  traco  the  marking  of  such  a  heavenh^  Isvlder  to  a  night 
vision." 


312  JACOB.  (§  76.) 

upon  her  neck,  rolls  the  stone  from  the  well's  mouth,  and  waters 
her  sheep  (1.)  Laban  also  gives  him  a  hearty  welcome,  and 
being  soon  convinced  of  Jacob's  fitness,  he  endeavours  to  secure 
his  services  as  a  shepherd.  Jacob,  for  whom  the  first  meeting 
with  Eachel  had  already  been  of  great  and  decisive  moment, 
sues  for  her,  and  promises  a  seven  years'  service  as  her  price  (2.) 
But  Laban,  not  less  selfish  than  crafty,  endeavours  to  bind  him 
for  a  longer  time,  palms  upon  hun,  instead  of  the  beautiful  Rachel, 
her  elder  and  less  attractive  sister  Leah,  and,  in  reply  to  Jacob's 
reproaches,  pleads  as  his  excuse  the  custom  of  the  country,  which 
did  not  allow  the  marriage  of  a  younger  sister  before  that  of  an 
elder.  Thus  Jacob,  who  cannot  give  up  his  love  for  Rachel,  is 
compelled  to  bind  himself  for  other  seven  years,  and  now  also 
weds  his  chosen  bride  (3.) 

(1.)  Robinson  informs  us  (i.  490),  "  Over  most  of  the  cisterns 
is  laid  a  broad  and  thick  flat  stone,  with  a  round  hole  cut  in  the 
middle,  forming  the  mouth  of  the  cistern.  This  hole  we  found 
in  many  cases  covered  with  a  heavy  stone,  which  it  would 
require  two  or  three  men  to  roll  away."  The  established  regu- 
lation of  the  well  demanded  that  the  stone  should  not  be  rolled 
away  until  all  the  flocks  had  been  brought  together  (cli.  xxix.  8.) 
But  when  Jacob  learned  that  the  approaching  shepherdess  was 
Laban's  daughter,  he  oversteps  this  arrangement,  and,  in  the 
overflowing  joy  of  his  heart,  he  offers  his  services,  and  rolls  away 
the  stone.  The  shepherds  present  do  not  interfere,  probably 
from  a  feeling  of  hospitality  towards  the  stranger,  who  had  given 
them  to  understand  that  he  was  a  near  relative  of  the  rich  and 
respected  Laban,  perhaps  also  because,  when  the  flock  of  Laban 
had  arrived,  the  flocks  that  had  a  right  to  the  cistern  were 
assembled.  We  are  scarcely  surprised  that  Jacob,  in  the  excess 
of  liis  joy,  should,  without  farther  ceremony,  have  fallen  upon 
the  neck  of  liis  near  relative,  whose  arrival  must  have  appeared 
to  liim  as  a  token  that  God  had  favoured  his  journey  and  its  aim. 
Calvin  correctly  observes :  Ex  morum  hujus  temporis  integritate 
manavit  quod  Jacob  ad  consobrinae  suae  osculum  properare 
ausus  est,  nam  in  vita  casta  et  modesta  midto  major  erat  Jibertas. 

De  Wettes  difficulty  (Criticism  of  Mos.  Hist.,  p.  114),  who, 
with  reference  to  the  similar  meeting  of  Eliezer  (§  67) ,  observes 
that  "chance  would  hardly  have  played  the  suitor  twice  in  so 
welcome  a  manner,"  Baumgarten  sets  aside  by  the  remark,  ''  first, 
that  the  correspondence  of  circumstances  arose  from  a  constant 
custom  in  the  East,  which  even  up  to  the  present  day  has  been 
preserved,  and  tben,  that  the  Supreme  Director  of  all  these  things 


jacub's  bojoien  in  mksopotamia.   (§  7G.)  313 

is  not  clionce,  but  Jehovah,  who  for  this  purpose  causes  similar 
circnmstances  to  return  with  similar  occasions,  in  order  fully  to 
convince  us  of  the  connection  of  the  sacred  history." 

(2.)  The  reason  why  the  seliish  Lahan,  after  four  weeks,  him- 
self insists  on  fixing  the  wages  of  Jacob  lies  in  this,  that  he  does 
not  wish  to  concede  to  his  nephew  any  claims  to  gratitude,  which 
are  more  difiicult  to  satisfy  than  the  exactly  deiincd  claims  of 
right.  It  is  exactly  in  this  apparent  unselfishness  that  Laban's 
heartlessness  comes  out.  The  custom  of  paying  to  the  father  a 
purchase-price  on  a  daughter's  marriage  is  founded  on  the  one 
hand  in  tlie  i)re-christian  position  of  woman,  and  on  the  other 
hand  in  the  loss  whicli  befel  the  household  through  the  departure 
of  a  daughter,  and  which  required  compensation.  Yet  here  also 
Laban's  avarice  ai)pears,  on  a  comparison  wdth  the  conduct  of  his 
father  Bethuel,  who  demanded  no  pmchase-i^rice  at  Eebekah's 
marriage.  Laban's  daughters  (ch.  xxxi.  15)  also  expressly 
complain  of  this,  that  their  father  had  disposed  of  them  as  of  a 
piece  of  merchandise.  That  Jacob,  instead  of  the  pm'chase- 
price,  offers  a  seven  years'  service  is  possibly  connected  with  the 
law  of  slaver)fc(Ex.  xxi.  !2),  which  probably  was  aheady  cus- 
tomary and  afterwards  was  fixed  by  Moses  as  a  statute,  in  virtue 
of  wliich  a  fellow-countryman  entering  on  the  relation  of  servant 
was  to  go  out  free  in  the  seventh  year.  The  custom  of  the 
purchase-price  places  the  value  of  a  daugliter  on  a  par  with  that 
of  a  bondman.  While  Jacob  thus  undertakes  the  entire  term  of 
service  of  a  bondman,  he  gives  to  Laban  full  compensation  for 
the  loss  of  his  daughter.  If  criticism  declares  it  incomi)rehensible 
that  Jacob  did  not  rather  procure  the  purchase-price  from  his 
rich  father,  the  greater  convenience  of  this  proposal  could  scarcely 
have  escaped  Jacob,  if  this  history  or  the  author  of  the  same  is 
to  be  considered  as  a  myth.  We  account  for  the  circumstance 
not  so  nmch  from  the  difficulties  which  the  still  continuing  wrath 
of  Esau  would  have  been  able  to  lay  in  the  way  of  the  attainment 
of  tliis  end,  as  rather  from  Jacob's  peculiar  position  both  with 
res])ect  to  his  father's  house  and  to  God's  promise.  As  Jacob 
had  himself  occasioned  the  cu-cumstances  by  wdiich  he  was  sepa- 
rated from  liis  father's  house,  he  is  cast  ujion  his  oivn  resources. 
In  as  far,  however,  as  through  the  api)earance  of  God  at  Bethel, 
he  has  entered  into  covenant-relationship  wdth  God,  he  is  also 
cast  ujMn  Jehovah.  Had  he  now  appealed  to  his  father  he 
would  have  been  guilty  not  only  of  mean  cowardice,  but  of 
blamew(jrthy  unlielief 

(3.)  Usserms  (Annales  V.  et  N.  Test.,  p.  7),  and  after  him 
among  others  Hess  (History  of  the  Patiiarchs  ii.,  p.  87),  suppose 
that  the  mariuage  had  taken  place  during  the  first  year  of 
Jacol)'b  servitude,  and  they  interpret  the  expression  used  by  tho 


314  JACOB.  (§  70,  77.) 

patriarch  in  verse  21,  "  for  my  days  are  fulfilled,"  which  in  the 
connection  seem  to  point  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  seven  years  of 
servitude  agreed  upon,  by  "  quod  uxori  maturus  esset  plus  satis." 
Probably  this  hypothesis  owed  its  origin  to  the  chronological 
difficulties  in  om-  chapter,  to  which  we  shall  by  and  bye  refer,  but 
wliich  by  no  means  warrant  us  in  giving  this  rendeiing  to  the 
words.  The  deceit  of  Laban  became  possible  by  the  custom 
of  leading  the  bride  veiled  into  the  dai'k  bridal  chamber.  This 
imposition  is  the  Nemesis  that  overtakes  Jacob,  and  must  have 
reminded  him  of  the  similar  wrong  of  which  himself  had  been 
guilty.  As  instead  of  the  beloved  son  he  had  brought  to  Isaac 
him  whom  he  had  despised  and  neglected,  so  Laban  now  sub- 
stitutes the  despised  Leah  for  his  beloved  Eachel.  But  as  then 
Isaac  had  rightly  blessed  the  son  whom  he  had  not  loved,  so  also 
was  Jacob's  wife,  though  not  beloved,  yet  destined  for  him  by 
God.  For  it  was  Leah  and  not  Rachel  who  became  the  mother 
of  that  son  who  afterwards  inherited  the  most  precious  part  in 
the  promise  (comp.  §  94,  3.)  Even  profane  history  and  common 
life  offer  many  strange  and  manifest  e^ddences  of  a  retributiv^e 
Providence,  but  in  sacred  liistory  these  appear  in  a  manner 
specially  striking.  However,  Laban  is  at  least  not  so  unjust  as 
to  require  Jacob  to  discharge  his  second  servitude  before  the 
marriage  with  Rachel.  Immediately  after  the  mr.rriage-week  is 
past,  he  gives  to  Jacob  Racliel  as  his  wife.  The  ceremony  lasted 
seve7i  days  (comp.  also  Judges  xiv.  12  and  17),  from  the  sym- 
bolical idea  attaching  to  the  number  seven,  as  being  that  of  the 
covenant.  Thus,  instead  of  one,  Jacob  had  two  wives,  and  these 
sisters.  The  remarks  of  Calvin  (ad  h.  1.),  who  exclaims  about 
the  incest  and  the  "belluinus  mos,"  do  not  apply  to  the  period 
before  the  giving  of  the  law.  Still  it  is  manifest  that  in  the 
course  of  tliis  history  the  ungodliness  of  this  relation  is  condemned, 
and  the  way  prepared  for  the  proliibition  in  Lev.  xviii.  18. 

§  77.  (Gen.  xxix.  31 — xxx.  24.) — Tlie  Lord  now  owns  Leah, 
who  was  despised  by  Jacob.  AVliile  for  many  years  Rachel  re- 
mains barren  (1),  Leah,  in  rapid  succession,  becomes  the  mother 
of  four  sons,  lieuhcn,  Simeon,  Levi,  and  Judali.  The  envy  of 
her  sister  increases  in  the  highest  manner.  Jacob,  although  he 
reproves  the  expressions  of  her  passionate  complaints,  yields  to 
her  impatient  demand,  and  takes  her  maid  Billiah,  that  Rachel 
might  have  chilcben  of  her.  Bilhah  bore  him  two  sons,  Dan  and 
Haphtali.  As  Leah,  in  the  interval,  had  not  borne  children, 
she  also,  following  her  sister's  evil  example,  gave  to  Jacob  Zilpah, 
her  maid,  Avho  bore  Gad  and  Ashcr.     But  Jacob  neglected  Leah 


JA(X)b's  SOJOl'UN  IN  MESOPOTAMIA.    (§  77.)  315 

ia  so  unjust  11  maimer,  and  lixcd  liis  aiiections  so  exclusively  on 
Rachel,  that  the  former  had  to  huy  from  her  sister  the  favour  of 
her  hushand,  by  Dudaim  (2),  which  her  son  Reuben  had  found 
in  the  field,  and  wliich  were  supposed  to  have  the  power  of  pro- 
curing fruitfulness.  But  despite  her  possession  of  these  Dudaim, 
Rachel  remains  barren,  while  Leah  gives  birth  to  Issacliar 
(comp.  Gesenius,  Thes.,  p.  1331),  to  Zehulon,  and  then  to  a 
daughter  called  Dinah.  However,  in  the  meantime,  Rachel's 
time  of  probation  comes  to  an  end,  and  towards  the  close  of  the 
fourteenth  year  of  servitude,  she  gives  birth  to  Joseph  (3.) 

(1.)  Tlie  longing  to  become  mother  has  its  origin  in  the  natural 
destination  of  woman.  But  this  natural  longing  was  heiglitened 
during  the  period  when  the  equality  of  woman  was  not  acknow- 
ledged, and  the  wife  occupied  a  position  of  importance  only  when 
she  became  a  mother.  In  religious  antiquity,  barrenness  was 
considered  a  reproach  and  a  punislmient,  and  tliat  in  measure 
as  the  consciousness  that  children  Avere  a  gift  of  God  (Ps. 
cxxvii.  3)  was  common  and  deep.  Lastly,  to  fill  the  measure  of 
evils  attaching  to  barrenness,  a  childless  woman  would,  both  in 
the  chosen  family  and  in  tlie  chosen  race,  regard  herself  as  ex- 
cluded from  that  connection  in  which  marriage  stood  to  the 
j)romised  blessing.  Nor  can  we  be  mistaken  in  supposing  that 
the  latter  consideration  may  have  inflrenced  Rachel,  as  it  is,  at 
any  rate,  more  than  probable  that  Jacob  had  informed  his  wives, 
and  especially  tlie  wife  of  his  afiections  and  of  liis  choice,  ^m.i\\ 
his  peculiar  position  and  calling.  Hence,  however  defective  and 
one-sided  their  understanding  of  these  subjects,  the  wives  of 
Jacob  had  no  doubt  shared  to  some  extent  his  views  and  his 
hopes. 

(2.)  About  the  Dudaim,  comp.  Tvch,  Comm.,  p.  44G,  &c.  ; 
Friedreich,  Notes  to  the  Bible,  i.,  p.  158,  &c.  ;  Lengerke, 
Canaan,  i.,  p.  133  ;  JFiner,  s.  v.  "  Alraun."  It  is  now  generally 
understood  that  by  this  term,  the  "  Mandragora  verncdis"  was 
meant  (comp.  Berioloni,  Comm.  de  Mandragoris,  Bologna.  1836, 
folio.)  The  small  yellow  and  odoriferous  apples  of  this  plant  were, 
both  in  ancient  and  modern  times,  in  the  East,  regarded  as  capable 
oi'  stinndating  and  exciting,  and  hence  of  exercising  a  peculiar 
influence  on  the  nervous  system.  They  were  therefore  also  em- 
ployed in  the  })repa ration  of  love  i)otions.  Tuch  entirely  mis- 
takes tlie  text  in  remarking,  p.  44(j  :  "  The  Dudaim  efi'ect  that 
Leah  again  gives  birth,  and  that  Rachel,  hitherto  barren,  be- 
comes a  motlier."  To  this  Baumgarlcn  rightly  replies:  "  TucJt 
himself  remarks,  at  p.  449.  that  there  is  no  mention  of  the  man- 


316  JACOB.  (§  77.) 

dragora  afterwards.  Yet  lie  will  not  see  that  the  narrative  is 
meant  to  show  that  the  mercy  of  God,  and  not  natural  means, 
bestows  children  upon  these  women.  Leah  does  not  refuse  to 
her  sister  the  mantbagora  of  her  son.  Yet  Leah  conceives,  and 
Rachel  remains  barren,  and  this  because  the  former  had  called 
upon  the  Lord,  and  He  had  heard  her  (verse  17.)  Again,  it  is 
when  God  remembers  Rachel  (verse  22),  that  she  conceives.  To 
enforce  tliis  truth,  the  Holy  Ghost  here  brings  before  us  a  pic- 
ture of  human  life,  without  keeping  anything  back."  Leah  con- 
siders it  an  act  of  self-denial  when  she  gives  her  maid  to  her 
husband,  for  wliich  she  supposes  herself  rewarded  when  she  bears 
a  son,  and  therefore  calls  him  Issachar,  i.e.,  "  it  is  a  reward." 

(3.)  Like  a  stream  that  had  long  been  stemmed,  the  fruitful- 
ness  promised  in  the  Divine  blessing  manifests  itself  at  last  in 
the  abundance  of  children  granted  to  Jacob.  But  here  also 
the  idea  that  without  the  intervention  of  grace,  nature  is  incap- 
able of  producing  the  promised  seed,  appears,  at  least  in  part,  in 
the  long-continued  barrenness  of  Rachel.  As  Joseph  was  born 
before  the  fourteenth  year  of  servitude  had  elapsed,  and  as  tlie 
marriage  had  taken  place  in  the  seventh  year  of  servitude,  twelve 
children  must  have  been  born  during  the  seven  intervening 
years.  However,  if,  as  some  have  maintained,  the  text  meant  to 
convey  that  these  childi-en  were  born  in  succession,  it  would 
imply  the  most  curious  and  manifest  impossibility^  But  even 
older  interpreters  and  chronologists  (for  examj^le,  Petavius,  De 
Doctr.  Temp.,  9,  19,  and  Heidegger.,  Hist.  Patr.,  2,  253),  and, 
after  them,  later  writers,  as,  for  example,  Hengstenberg  (Contrib. 
iii.,  p.  351,  &c.),  Baumgarten  (i.  1,  272),  Leiigerke  (Canaan,  i., 
p.  308,  &c.),  Reinhe  (Contrib.  to  the  Expl.  of  the  Old  Test.,  p. 
95,  &c.),  have  satisfactorily  removed  this  difficulty.  The  alleged 
contradiction  arises  from  the  mistake  of  supposing  that  the  Vav 
conseq.  in  a  narrative  always  imphes  continuous  progress  in  the 
order  of  time.  (Against  this,  comp.  Ewald's  Larger  Grammar, 
p.  614,  §  332,  a  ;  Lengerke,  Canaan,  i.,  p.  310,  note  1  ;  and  the 
Authors  Unity  of  Genesis,  Berlin,  1846,  pp.  7  to  12.)  "  The 
fact  in  such  case  related  does  not  necessarily  connect  itself  with 
what  immediately  precedes,  but,  as  in  many  other  cases,  with  the 
whole  context,  and  implies  a  succession  indeed,  but  in  the  whole 
narrative,  not  in  its  individual  parts"  {Hengstenberg ,  1.  c.) 
Lengerke  riglitly  remarks  (1.  c.)  :  "  If  we  consider  the  passionate 
character  of  Rachel,  and  the  light  in  which  the  narrative  repre- 
sents her  position  towards  her  sister  (chap.  xxx.  1),  it  does  not 
appear  credible  that  Rachel  had  given  Bilhah  to  her  husband 
only  when  Leah  had  ceased  to  bear,  as  the  text  in  chap.  xxx. 
seems  to  imply,  inasmuch  as  her  jealousy  would,  under  these 
circumsttmces,  not  have  been  so  much  called  forth. "     The  first 


Jacob's  sojourn  in  mksopl'Tamia.  (§  77,  78.)  317 

four  children  of  Leah  were  born  within  the  shortest  possible  in- 
tervals of  time.  Before  Leah  felt  her  temporary  barrenness, 
Rachel  had  already  given  Bilhah  to  Jacob,  and  whenever  Leah 
imagined  that  she  was  to  bear  no  more  children,  she  followed  the 
example  of  her  sister,  by  giving  Zilpah  to  her  husband.  Consi- 
dering how  rapidly  she  had  formerly  borne  children,  and  the 
jealousy  existing  between  the  sisters,  w^e  can  readily  understand 
that  this  was  done  after  the  lapse  of  a  very  few  months.  Soon 
afterwards  she  again  conceived,  and  before  the  seven  years  were 
elapsed  bore  other  three  children.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  suppose 
with  Licjhffoot  (i.  18)  that  Zebulon  and  Dinah  had  been  twins. 
Tlie  occurrence  connected  with  the  mandragora  took  place  im- 
mediately before  Leah  conceived  for  the  fifth  time,  and  Reuben, 
who  found  the  plant,  was  at  the  time  about  four  years  old.  It 
does  not  appear  either  remarkable  or  improbable  that  a  child  of 
that  age  should  have  been  taken  to  the  fields,  and  "  have  been 
attracted  by  the  beautiful  flowers  and  fruits.'' 

§  78.  (Gen.  xxx.  25,  &c.) — Jacob  is  now  anxious  to  return 
home,  in  order  to  provide  for  his  own  family.  Laban,  who  had 
experienced  how  remarkably  the  blessing  of  God  had  rested  upon 
all  that  his  son-in-law  had  done,  endeavours  by  all  means  in  his 
power  to  retain  his  services.  With  selfish  readiness  he  agrees 
to  the  apparently  foolish  demand  made  by  Jacob,  that  all  tlie 
young  of  the  flock  which  shall  be  speckled  or  spotted  were  to 
become  his  hire.  But  here  also  the  cunning  and  calculation, 
which  formed  an  element  in  Jacob's  natural  character,  appear  as 
strikingly  as  formerly  in  his  relation  to  Esau,  As  then,  so  now, 
the  purposes  of  God  coincide  w^th  those  of  Jacob,  notwithstand- 
ing the  improper  means  by  which  he  seeks  to  attain  his  ends. 
Jacob  meets  cunning  vnX\\  cunning,  and  retm-ns  the  deceit  of 
Laban  with  deceit ;  but  Jehovah  allows  success  to  follow  his 
cunning,  in  order  to  punish  one  wrong  with  another.  By  clever 
tricks,  which  lie  has  learned  during  his  experience  as  a  shepherd, 
Jacob  seeks  to  effect  it,  that  the  strongest  cattle  should  bear  the 
colours  agreed  on  (1),  while  a  \dsion  assures  him  that  even 
without  any  such  artifices,  God  would  right  him  in  his  cause  with 
Laban  (2.)  Thus  it  happens,  that  however  frequently  Laban 
changed  the  concUtious  of  agreement,  eventually  the  advantage 
is  always  on  the  side  of  Jacob  (3),  and  within  six  years,  the 
flocks  which  by  agreement  became  his  increased  very  rapidly. 


318  JACOB.  (§78.) 

(1.)  The  AGREEMENT  between  Jacob  and  Laban  depends  iqjon 
the  fact  that,  in  the  East,  the  sheep  are  commonly  wliite  and  the 
goats  black,  while  speckled  and  spotted  animals  are  rarely  seen. 
All  spotted  and  dark  sheep,  and  all  speckled  goats,  are  re- 
moved from  the  flock  entrusted  to  Jacob,  and  led  over  to  the 
flocks  entrusted  to  the  sons  of  La])an,  so  that  only  sheep  of  pure 
white  colour,  and  goats  of  pure  black  colour  remain.  All  in 
that  flock  which  should  bear  different  colours  were  to  become 
the  hire  of  Jacob  ;  and  as  in  the  ordinary  course  of  natm-e,  any- 
thing of  the  kind  expected  by  Jacob  was  scarcely  to  be  antici- 
pated, Laban  agrees  to  his  demand,  selfislily  rejoicing  over  what 
he  supposes  the  folly  of  his  nephew.  And  yet  Labau  comes  off 
worst  in  a  compact  which  apparently  seemed  so  very  advantage- 
ous to  him.  Jacob  makes  use  of  an  observation  which  as  yet 
seems  to  have  escaped  the  shepherds  of  Mesopotamia,  viz.,  that, 
any  impression  on  the  imagination  at  the  time  of  conception,  or 
during  pregnancy,  has  frequently  the  effect  of  showing  itself  on 
the  foetus.  This  is  a  fact,  the  reality  of  which  has  been  placed 
beyond  doubt,  by  inniunerable  instances  at  all  times,  both  among 
animals  and  in  the  human  species,  but  which  specially  applies  to 
sheep.  Comp.  Bochart,  Hierozic.  ii.,  49,  pp.  543 — 547  ;  Rosen- 
milUer,  the  East,  i.,  p.  150;  TncJi,  p.  452  ;  Lengerke,  Canaan, 
i.,  p.  152,  &c.  ;  J.  D.  Michaelis,  Miscellaneous  Works,  i.,  p.  61, 
&c.  ;  J.  B.  Friedreich,  Contrib.  to  Bible,  Nm-enberg,  1848,  i., 
p.  37,  &c.  ;  Trusen,  Diseases  of  the  Bible,  p.  52,  <fec.  ;  and  Winer, 
s.  v.,  Jacob,  p.  523  (3d  ed.),  and  the  authorities  there  adduced. 
Accordingly  Jacob,  at  the  time  of  conceiving,  put  rods  of  various 
trees,  strakes  of  wliich  he  had  pilled  away,  and  the  white  wood 
of  which  was  peculiarly  bright,  into  the  watering  troughs  to 
which  the  flocks  came  to  drink,  that  so  the  imagination  of  these 
animals  should  be  impressed  with  the  speclded  rods  while  they 
conceived.  The  event  proved  that  the  device  was  well  contrived. 
Again,  when  speclded  animals  appeared  in  the  flock,  Jacob 
adopted  another  and  similar  plan,  the  more  certainly  and  fully 
to  attain  his  object.  He  separated  those  animals  which  were  of 
one  colour  from  those  wliich  were  spotted,  and  so  placed  them 
towards  each  other  that  the  former  were  always  obliged  to  look 
toward  the  latter,  while  the  latter  never  saw  the  former.  How- 
ever, Jacob  was  just  enough  only  to  apply  these  artifices  in  spring 
and  not  in  autumn,  so  that  the  second  produce  of  the  year  always 
belonged  to  his  father-in-law.  It  must,  however,  be  admitted 
that  the  text  expressly  remarks  that  the  animals  conceived  in 
spring  were  stronger  and  better  than  the  others,  as  the  mothers 
were  better  fed  at  that  season  of  the  year.  (Bochart,  1.  c,  ii.  46, 
p.  514;  comp.  Tuch,  1.  c,  p.  453,  &c.,  and  Lengerke,  1.  c,  p. 
151.)     The  conduct  of  Jacob  must  be  \aewed  in  the  same  light 


Jacob's  sojourn  in  Mesopotamia.  (§  78.)  319 

na  the  falHebood  of  Abraham  (§  52,  2),  aud  the  former  manifes- 
tations of  cunning  and  deceit  on  the  part  of  our  patriarch.  So 
far  as  Laban's  heartlessness  and  selhshness  was  concerned,  he 
was  right.  He  considered  himself,  as  it  were,  on  his  defence, 
and  regarded  his  deception  as  simply  necessary  for  protection. 
As  formerly,  so  now,  his  faith  was  too  weak,  and  he  was  naturally 
too  much  disposed  to  have  recourse  to  cunning  and  methods  of 
self-deliverance,  wholly  to  commit  liis  cause  to  the  Lord,  and, 
if  necessary,  to  expect  even  a  miracle,  as  Abraham  had  done  on 
Mount  Moriah.  The  \dsion  which  the  Lord  had  granted  him, 
and  to  wliich  we  shall  immediately  refer,  might  indeed  have 
taught  the  patriarch  that  such  faith  would  not  be  disappointed, 
any  more  than  the  confidence  of  Abraham  had  been  vain.  In- 
deed, the  position  and  the  character  of  Jacob  lead  us  to  expect 
that  in  his  history  self-deliverance  and  Divine  deliverance  shall 
always  meet.  We  cannot  therefore  agree  with  Ttich,  that  the 
report  of  Jacob's  artifices  arose  from  "  a  kind  of  rationalism  on 
the  part  of  him  who  wrote  the  supplementary  portion  of  Genesis," 
and  wJio,  in  opposition  to  the  original  document"  (comp.  our 
work  on  the  Unity  of  Genesis,  p.  164,  &c.),  always  attempts  to 
accomit  by  natural  means  for  the  manner  in  which  miraculous 
events  had  taken  place,  in  the  fashion  in  wliich  afterwards  Eich- 
horn  and  Pmdus  of  Heidelberg  had  done  it.  But  if  we  are  to 
speak  of  rationalism,  we  would  rather  ascribe  it  to  rationalism 
on  the  part  of  Jacob,  who,  despite  his  experience  of  miracles,  felt 
it  very  difficult  to  expect  any  such  interposition.  Drechsler 
(Unity  of  Genesis,  p.  237,  &c.)  is  entirely  mistaken  as  to  the 
meaning  of  the  passage,  wiien  he  attempts  to  convert  Jacob's 
self-deliverance  into  an  evidence  of  simple  faith. 

(2.)  It  seems  that  immediately  after  Jacob  had  made  the 
agreement  with  Laban,  he  beheld  a  vision  (chap.  xxxi.  10,  &c.), 
in  which  all  the  rams  which  leaped  upon  the  cattle  were  ring- 
straked,  speckled,  and  grisled,  and  the  angel  of  God  at  the  same 
time  testified  that  "  he  had  seen  all  that  L^ban  had  done  unto 
him."  Manifestly  tliis  vision  must  have  b^n  prophetic,  and 
meant  to  announce  that  the  rams  of  the  flock,  which  were  of  one 
colour,  shovdd  have  the  same  progeny  as  if  they  had  l)een  speclded 
or  grisled.  Again,  the  fact  that  while  the  artifice  of  Jacob  was 
designed  with  a  special  view  to  the  sheep^  while  the  vision  espe- 
cially refers  to  the  rams,  shows  that  it  was  intended  to  teach  him 
the  difference  between  his  oivn  device  and  the  help  of  God,  and 
that  the  latter  alone  was  quite  sufficient  to  vindicate  his  rights 
against  the  selfishness  of  Lal)an.  In  his  conversations  with  his 
wives,  Jacob  refers  only  to  the  deliverance  of  God,  while  he 
passes  in  silence  over  his  own  device,  showing  that  his  conscience 
had  reproached  him,  that  his  cunning  was  ungenerous,  and  had 


320  JACOB.   (§  78,  79.) 

better  be  concealed,  even  from  his  wives.  From  the  connection 
between  v.  13  and  14,  Baumgarten  and  others  infer  that  this 
^dsion  was  repeated  at  every  time  of  conception,  but  this  supposi- 
tion is  very  improbable.  In  liis  narrative  to  his  wives,  Jacob 
does  not  pay  strict  attention  to  the  question  of  succession  of  time, 
and  therefore  connects  together  the  two  "vdsions  that  had  been 
vouchsafed  to  him,  one  of  which  had  taken  place  at  the  com- 
mencement of  his  last  six  years  of  servitude,  and  the  other  at 
their  close. 

(3.)  When  Jacob  says  that  Laban  had  changed  his  wages 
TEN  TIMES,  this  is  manifestly  a  round  number,  which,  from  its 
symbolical  meaning,  as  that  of  completeness,  is  intended  to  indi- 
cate that  Laban  had  changed  the  conditions  of  the  compact  so 
frequently,  that  it  was  impossible  to  change  them  any  farther. 
It  is  not  expressly  stated  wherein  these  changes  consisted,  but 
they  probably  refer  (v,  8)  to  modifications  of  colour,  and  to  the 
clianges  from  the  speckled  (dotted)  to  the  ring-straked,  and 
again  to  the  grisled  (chap.  xxx.  39.)  All  these  changes  brought 
out  the  more  clearly,  that  the  artifices  of  Jacob  alone  would 
have  been  insufficient,  and  that  the  effect  produced  was  rather 
due  to  the  assistance  of  God.  It  was  perhaps  also  on  this  ground 
that,  in  his  narrative  of  the  circumstances  to  his  wives,  Jacob 
laid  exclusive  emphasis  on  the  assistance  of  God. 


RETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.    HIS  WRESTLING  WITH  JEHOVAH. 

§  79.  (Gen.  xxxi.) — The  prosperity  which  equally  attended 
Jacob  under  all  circumstances,  excited  the  envy  and  hatred  of 
Laban  and  of  his  sons,  and  their  bitter  remarks  made  him  desire 
to  put  an  end  to  the  relations  subsisting  between  them.  This 
wish  is  met  by  the  call  of  God  to  return  into  the  land  of  his 
fathers.  But  Jacob,  always  accustomed  to  prefer  crooked  ways 
to  straight,  resolves  to  fly  by  stealth,  and  his  wives,  embit- 
tered by  the  unworthy  and  careless  manner  in  which  they  had 
been  treated  by  their  father,  readily  consent  to  liis  proposal. 
The  desired  opportunity  for  executing  this  design  offers  when 
Laban  goes  to  shear  his  sheep.  Without  the  knowledge  of 
Jacob,  Eachel  takes  away  the  Teraphim  of  her  father  (1.)  But 
on  the  third  day  Laban  is  informed  of  the  circumstance.  Suc- 
coured by  his  Idnsmen,  he  pursues  the  fugitives,  and  on  the 
seventh  day  overtakes  them  on  Mount  Gilead  (2.)     But  the 


RETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  (§  79.)  321 

night  before  this,  tlie  God  of  Jacob  had,  in  a  vision,  solemnly 
warned  Laban  against  using  any  violence.  He  therefore  only 
reproaches  the  patriarch  about  his  secret  flight,  hy|iocritically  add- 
ing that  thereby  he  had  even  been  prevented  from  kissing  liis 
daughters,  and  from  sending  away  his  son-in-law  witli  all  proper 
formality.  But  he  is  most  concerned  about  the  stolen  Teraphim. 
Jacob  liimself  insists  upon  a  search  being  made  for  them,  which, 
of  course,  leads  to  no  result,  as  Eachel,  pretending  to  be  after  the 
custom  of  women,  keeps  her  father  from  her  person  and  her  seat, 
under  which  she  had  concealed  the  Teraphim  (3.)  The  reconci- 
liation of  Jacob  and  of  Laban  is  solemnised  by  a  covenant,  by  an 
oath,  by  a  sacrifice,  and  by  a  covenant-feast.  A  stone  monmiient 
erected  on  the  spot  was  to  be  at  the  same  time  a  witness  of  this 
covenant,  and  the  boundary-mark  of  nomadic  exciu'sions  to  them 
and  to  their  descendants  (4.) 


(1.)  On  the  Teraphim,  comp.  J.  D.  Micliaelis  "  de  Teraphis," 
in  his  Comment.  Soc.  Gott.  obi.  ;  Winer,  s.  h.  v.  ;  Tiich,  Com- 
ment, p.  457,  &c.  ;  Eengsteiibefixj,  Clu-istoL,  ii.,  p.  177;  iii.,  p. 
129  ;  Hdvernich,  Ezekiel,  p.  347,  &c.  ;  Lengerke,  Canaan,  i.,  pp. 
256  and  306.  Probably  they  were  statues  bearing  the  form  of 
man,  but  of  smaller  size  (comp.  Gen.  xxxi.  34  with  1  Sam.  xix. 
13),  which  were  worshipped  as  house-  and  family-gods,  as  the 
givers  and  disposers  of  domestic  happiness  (Gen.  xxxi.  ;  Judges 
xviii.  24.)  Probably  they  were  also  consulted  as  domestic 
oracles  (Ezekiel  xxi.  26  ;  Zech.  x.  2.)  Their  worsliip  passed 
from  the  Arameans  to  the  Israelites,  where  it  repeatedly  appears, 
up  to  the  time  of  the  captivity,  although  it  is  always  stigmatised 
as  idolatry  (Gen.  xxxv.  4  ;  2  Kings  xxiii.  24  ;  Zech.  x.  2  ;  Hosea 
iii.  4.)  We  cannot  therefore  agree  with  Hengstenhcrg,  who 
supposes  that  they  were  intermediate  beings,  which  might  find 
a  place  in  any  system  of  religion,  and  the  consulting  of  whom 
did  not  necessarily  imply  idolatry,  as  they  were  always  enquired 
at  in  tlie  name  of  Jehovah  (comp.  Hdvernich,  1.  c.)  Micliaelis 
regarded  them  as  a  Idnd  of  satyrs  or  sylines,  according  to  the 
statement  of  Pausanias,  6,  24,  6  {Ovr^rov  elvat  to  •ykvo'i  twv 
^LKrjvoiv  eiKacrai  ti"?  av  fjuaXLara  eVl  rot?  rac^ot?  avrwv'ev  <yap  rfi 
'E/3pai(ov  %(wpa  ^ikrjvov  fivrjfia),  with  which,  as  he  su])poses,  the 
statement  in  Grenesis  xxxv.  4,  according  to  which  Jacob  buries 
the  Teraphim  under  an  oak,  near  Sychem,  remarkably  agrees. 
But  even  if  this  strange  statement  of  Pausanias  should  have  any 
connection  with  that  in  Genesis  xxxv.  4,  which  is  conceivable, 
since  Judges  ix.  6  and  37  shows  that  the  remembrance  of  this 

■VOL.   I.  X 


322  JACOB.  (§  79.) 

event  had  become  settled  in  popular  tradition,  it  still  rests  on  .1 
vague  and  arbitrary  combination.  We  do  not  discover  a  trace 
of  tlie  name  or  of  tlie  worship  of  Terapliim  in  any  but  in  Ai-a- 
mean  or  Hebrew  idolatry.  Allied  to  this  is  the  opinion  of 
Creuzer  (Symbolic,  2d  ed.,  p.  340),  according  to  whom  they 
were  Penates,  and  popularly  supposed  to  bestow  cliildren.  This 
view  is  again  propounded  by  Lengerke,  but  is  entirely  unground- 
ed.^ For,  the  statement  that  Kachel  had  taken  with  her  "  those 
sylines,"  as  a  last  resource,  m  order  to  obtain  children,  and  that 
Michael,  the  daughter  of  Saul  (1  Sam.  xix.),  had,  on  account  of 
her  barrenness,  also  worsliipped  them  miknown  to  David,  is  the 
more  unwarranted,  as  at  the  time  Kacliel  was  no  longer  barren, 
and  Michael  had  been  married  too  short  time  to  conclude  that 
she  would  not  be  mother.  (Nor  can  this  opinion  be  supported 
by  the  analogy  of  the  Greek  designation  Tpdyo'i  with  the  corres- 
ponding Hebrew  word.)  The  intention  of  Eachel  in  stealing  the 
Teraphim  is  evident.  She  is  anxious  to  preserve  or  to  gain  for 
her  oivn  household  the  happiness  which  she  connects  wath  the  pos- 
session of  the  Terapliim.  In  reference  to  the  etymology,  we  agree 
with  Hofmann  (Script.  Demonstr.,  i.,  p.  328)  in  regarding  the 
word  as  the  Ai\amean  form  of  a  Hebrew  word,  and  in  explaining 

it,  according  to  the  Arabic  root  ( j  ^,  "  altus,  excelsus,  nohilis" 

that  ivhich  is  elevated  and  ahove  the  earthly.  In  the  heathen 
Aramean  mode  of  expression,  it  is  equivalent  to  Dtn7t<^  (Gen. 
xxxi.  10  ;  xxxv.  2),  with  wliich  it  also  has  in  common  the  mean- 
ing attaching  to  its  plural.     We  cannot  attach  importance  to  the 

derivation  from  ( iy'J  (bonus  comodisque  vitae  effluxit),  pro- 
pounded by  Hdvernick,  1.  c,  far  less  to  that  of  E.  Meier,  Diet. 

Diet,  of  Eoots,  p.  382  (pi-^ji,  as  derived  from  ;-|-^n  ="  '^y^^  ^^ 
leave  hehind,  hence  "  undoubtedly  □ir)"^r\  ^^^^se  that  are  left  be- 
hind, as  it  were  the  relics,  the  portraits  of  departed  ancestors.") 
Sorensen  (Comm.  on  Genesis,  p.  248)  informs  us  that  the  Tera- 
phim were  corpses  covered  with  resin  or  gum,  and  that  the  name 
must  be  derived  from  h-^^  =  gum,  resin.     The  statement  that 

Rachel  had  concealed  the  Teraphim  under  the  saddle  of  the 
camel  does  not  in  the  least  disturb  our  ingenious  and  sagacious 
commentator.  For,  "  manifestly  the  Teraphim  are  here  also  a 
symbol  of  something  greater,  and  are  not  merely  family  mummies. 
They  are  in  this  case  also  the  representatives  of  the  tril)es  of 
Israel.  ...  If  Eachel  conceals  them,  and  withdraws  them 
from  the  view  of  Laban,  the  camel,  with  its  two  Immphs,  is  at 
the  same  time  a  pictorial  representation  of  Mount  Lebanon, 
under  and  behind  the  declivities  of  which  Eachel  liides  her 
robbery  from  the  eyes  of  Laban,  who  lives  on  the  other  side 
Lebanon." 


RETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  (§  79,  80.)       323 

(2.)  Tlie  SHEEP-SHEARING  of  Laban  was  in  many  respects  a 
fiivourable  opportunity  for  Jacob's  flight.  It  necessitated,  in  the 
first  place,  that  the  sheep  of  Laban  and  of  Jacob  should  be 
separated.  It  withdrew  Jacob  from  the  supervision  of  his 
father-in-law ;  it  removed  Laban  and  liis  family  several  days' 
journey  from  the  vicinity  of  Jacob,  while  the  duties  and  festivi- 
ties connected  with  it  (1  Sam.  v.  21 ;  2  Sam.  xiii.  23)  would 
engage  the  attention  of  the  suspicious  Laban  in  another  manner. 
However,  in  this  latter  respect,  Jacob  seems  to  have  been  mis- 
taken, as,  on  the  third  day,  Laban  receives  tidings  of  his  flight, 
whence  it  appears  probable  that,  with  liis  wonted  suspiciousness, 
he  had  left  spies  in  the  neighbourhood,  who  at  once  informed 
him  of  the  flight  of  his  son-in-law.  It  is  just  as  we  should  have 
expected,  when  the  text,  as  Tuch  remarks,  "  does  not  explain 
how  the  son-in-law  and  chief  superintendent  of  the  flocks  of 
Laban  could  have  been  absent  from  the  festivities  of  the  sheep- 
shearing,  to  which  commonly  relatives  and  friends  were  invited 
(v.  chap,  xxxviii.  12 ;  2  Sam.  xiii.  23.)"  This  circumstance  is 
quite  natural,  as  every  reader  can,  without  any  statement  of 
reasons,  easily  imagine  them.  The  dissension  between  them  had 
reached  its  highest  point,  so  that  the  absence  of  Jacob  would 
appear  desirable  to  both  parties,  nor  could  Jacob  be  at  any  loss 
in  finding  excuses  for  declining  an  invitation. 

(3.)  On  the  arrangement  of  the  couch  on  the  camel,  which  may 
have  served  also  as  a  bed  for  Rachel,  comp.  Tuch,  p.  459,  and 
Gesenius,  Thes.  p.  715,  &c.  The  pretext  of  Rachel  presupposes 
that  the  Levitical  law  (Lev.  xv.  19 — 24),  according  to  which 
any  contact  with  woman  under  such  circumstances  rendered 
unclean,  must  have  l)een  in  force  at  that  time,  and  even  among 
the  Ara means.  Considering  that  the  view  upon  which  this  law 
was  based,  was  not  exclusively  Jewish,  but  also  shared  by  many 
other  nations  of  antiquity  (comp.  Bdhr.  Symb.  ii.,  p.  446,  &c., 
and  Sommcr,  Bibl.  Discuss,  i.  271,  &c.),  this  circumstance  cannot 
be  urged  as  an  objection  to  the  historical  credibility  of  Genesis. 

(4.)  Baumgarten  aptly  remark,  i.  1.,  p.  279,  about  the  erec- 
tion of  this  Mazebah:  "  The  heap  of  stones  is  intended  to  serve 
as  a  ratification  of  the  covenant.  For,  a  thing  is  completed  by 
becoming  an  outward  reality,  perceptible  by  the  senses."  On 
Mount  Gilead,  comp.  §  42,  1.  The  name  of  the  heap  of  stones 
"^vh^  Ai7Z  of  ivitness,  (Laban  gives  it  the  equivalent  Aramean 

name  t^pi^inlr  'ID"')  ^^^  chosen  with   allusion  to  the   name 
Grilead,  which  already  attached  to  that  mountain. 

§  80.  (Gen.  xxxii.) — The  gracious  providence  of  God  has 
delivered  Jacob  from  the  dangers  that  threatened  him  ])y  the 
pursuit  of  Laban.     But  before  him  are  other  perils  from  a  mcet- 

x2 


324  JACOB.  (§  80.) 

ing  witli  his  brother  Esau.  On  his  arrival  at  the  boundary  of 
the  Holy  Land  an  host  of  angels  now  meets  him  as  a  guarantee 
that  there  also  the  protection  of  God  should  not  be  awanting 
him.  "  This  is  God's  liost"  exclaims  Jacob,  and  he  designates 
that  place  3Iahanaim  (double  host)  (1.)  Thence  he  sends 
messengers  to  Mount  Seir  to  inform  Esau  of  his  return,  and  to 
dispose  him  to  be  friendly  toward  him.  But  when  the  mes- 
sengers return  with  the  tidings  that  Esau  was  coming  to  meet 
liim,  at  the  head  of  400  men,  Jacob  apprehends  some  hostile 
design  (2.)  He  cautiously  prepares  for  the  worst  issue  of  the 
meeting  about  to  take  place,  and  divides  his  people  and  his 
flocks  into  two  bands,  that  if  the  one  company  should  be  slain 
by  Esau,  the  other  at  least  might  escape.  In  this  hour  of 
anxious  anticipation,  when  he  is  cast  upon  the  help  of  God  alone, 
he  reviews  his  former  life  so  full  of  aberrations  on  his  part,  and 
yet  so  full  of  mercy  and  of  gracious  provision  on  that  of  the 
Lord.  Now  at  last  he  casts  away  all  confidence  in  his  own 
strength  and  wisdom,  and  ascribes  to  God  alone  all  glory,  con- 
fessing :  "  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  the  mercies  and  of 
all  the  truth  wliich  thou  hast  shewed  unto  thy  servant ;  for  with 
my  staff  have  I  passed  over  this  Jordan,  and  now  I  am  become 
two  bands."  This  confession  is  followed  by  earnest  prayer  for 
deliverance,  full  of  believing  reference  to  the  promise  of  God  (3.) 
He  then  sets  apart  rich  presents  for  Esau,  which  he  sends  to 
meet  him  in  droves  at  certain  intervals,  next  brings  his  family 
over  the  ford  Jabbok,  and  remains  behind  on  the  other  side  by 
himself  alone.  There  a  man  wrestled  with  him  until  the  break- 
ing of  day.  It  was  the  angel  of  the  Lord.  He  from  whom  alone 
Jacob  could  look  for  help  and  deliverance,  meets  him  as  an 
enemy.  Before  meeting  with  Esau  he  must  fii-st  have  completely 
settled  his  concerns  with  God.  Jacob  had,  by  his  own  attempts 
at  deliverance,  disturbed  the  covenant-relationship  subsisting 
between  liimself  and  his  God.  This  must  first  be  settled  before 
Jehovah  can  be  wholly  on  his  side  and  entirely  assist  him  in  liis 
approaching  contest  with  his  brother.  And  Jacob,  although  he 
succumbs,  yet  prevails  in  this  wondi'ous  contest.  For  when  the 
angel  saw  that  he  prevailed  not  against  him,  he  touched  the  joint 
of  his  thigh,  and  in  wrestling  the  joint  of  his  thigh  was  dislo- 
cated.    Thus  rendered  incapable  for  continuing  the  contest,  and 


UETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.    (§  80.)  325 

tliereLy  probably  realising  who  it  was  that  contended  with  him, 
Jacob  takes  up  those  weapons  with  which  alone  God  is  overcome. 
He  betakes  himself  to  prayer  and  entreaty,  and  he  prevails.  In 
reply  to  his  continuous  prayer :  "  I  will  not  let  thee  go  except 
thou  bless  me !"  God  declares  that  Jacob  had  prevailed.  His 
own  strength  is  now  broken,  but  he  is  born  again  after  the 
inward  man,  and  thus  Jacob  comes  out  of  this  wrestling  with 
God,  with  a  new  name,  indicating  his  victory,  and  with  the 
blessing  of  Him  who  had  erst  threatened  him  with  destruction. 
Jacob  calls  the  name  of  this  place  of  contest,  Pniel,  "  for,"  says 
he,  "  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face,  and  my  soul  has  reco- 
vered" Then  the  sun  rose  upon  liim,  and  he  halted  upon  his 
tliigh  (4.) 

(1.)  "Mutatis  mutandis"  the  meeting  with  the  host  of 
ANC4ELS  answers  to  the  vision  of  the  heavenly  ladder  which  twenty 
years  before  had  conveyed  comfort  and  strength  to  Iris  heart. 
At  that  time  the  angehc  apparition  had  convoyed  him  on  liis 
departure  from  the  Holy  Land.  It  now  welcomes  him  on  his 
return  as  the  possessor  of  the  country  who  at  last  comes  back 
after  a  long  absence.  Then  the  vision  merely  betokened  jjeace 
and  blessing  ;  now  the  hosts  of  God  point  also  to  a  contest,  and 
imply  a  promise  of  assistance  and  of  defence.  Then  the  promise 
was  conveyed  in  a  dream  ;  now  wliile  waking,  which  implies  a 
more  immediate  and  strong  assurance.  On  this  ground  we 
cannot  agree  with  the  \'mv^  oi  Hengstenherg  (Balaam,  p.  51): 
"  The  appearance  of  the  angels  at  Mahanaim  miiM  have  been 
only  internal,  analogous  to  that  vouchsafed  to  Jacob  when  he 
departed  from  Mesopotamia,  Genesis  xxviii.  12,  and  of  Avhich  it 
is  expressly  stated,  tliat  it  had  been  in  a  dream."  However,  we 
have  not  the  slightest  indication  that  this  transaction  was  inter- 
nal. In  general  we  cannot  sympathise  with  Hengstenberg  in 
always  supposing  a  state  of  ecstasis,  whenever  apparitions  of  a 
higher  world  are  granted  to  a  person.  We  admit  that  in  the 
view  of  sacred  historians,  divine  revelations  were  equally  trust- 
worthy, whether  sent  in  vision  and  in  dream,  or  in  a  state  of 
wakefulness  (Numb.  xii.  6.)  But  as  it  is  equally  clear  that  they 
sometimes  represent  these  apparitions  to  have  taken  i)lace  in  one 
and  at  other  times  in  the  other  of  these  two  states  (for  example. 
Gen.  x\aii.  19),  we  do  not  see  why  we  should  have  recourse 
to  the  supposition  of  an  ecstasis,  when  the  sacred  wiiters  do 
not  expressly  state  so.  That  a  similar  apparition  of  angels 
(2  Kings  vi.  17)  had  taken  ytlace  in  vision  does  not  nccossiin'ly 


?>2e  .JACOB.   (§  80.) 

imply  that  such  had  been  the  case  with  that  under  considera- 
tion. The  same  apparition  was  equally  trustworthy,  whether 
beheld  in  vision  or  in  a  state  of  wakefulness,  and  took  place  under 
either  of  these  circumstances,  according  as  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  the  person  for  whom  it  was  designed  demanded. 

(2.)  Jacob  despatches  his  messengers  to  Mount  Seir.  Tuch 
remarks,  p.  464,  on  this  subject :  "  Esau  then  appears  already  as 
an  inhabitant  of  Seir,  who,  with  his  companions  in  arms,  in 
Bedouin  fasliion,  roams  as  far  as  Gilead,  while  according  to 
chap.  xxx\d.  6,  when  special  pm-poses  require  it,  he  still  remains 
in  Canaan,  and  only  afterwards  separates  from  his  brother." 
But  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  these  two  statements  are 
wholly  irreconcilable.  There  are  many  ways  of  solving  the 
difficulty.  ComiJ.  Lilienthal,  "The  Good  Cause  of  Divine  Reve- 
lation,"' iii.,  p.  48,  &c.  Among  the  various  suggestions  that  have 
been  offered,  the  folloAving  appears  to  us  the  most  probable.  In 
the  first  place  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  from  Genesis  xxxii.  4 
that  Mount  Seir  was  then  the  permanent  dwelling  place  of  Esau, 
but  only  that  at  the  time  he  had  been  there.  The  statement 
that  the  messengers  had  found  him  at  the  head  of  400  men, 
seems  to  afford  the  means  for  removing  the  apparent  contradic- 
tion. In  our  opinion  it  implies  that  he  was  there  engaged  in  a 
warlike  expecUtion.  It  was  probably  at  tJiis  very  time  that, 
at  the  head  of  a  warlike  band,  Esau  conquered  that  country. 
But  if  this  supposition  is  correct  (and  it  will  not  be  denied  that 
this  is  not  only  possible  but  even  probable),  it  quite  agrees  with 
the  circumstances  of  the  case,  that  his  wives,  childi-en  and  flocks 
(to  whom  alone  ch.  xxxvi.  refers)  should  still  have  remained  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Beersheba,  and  only  afterwards,  when  the 
Horites  were  driven  out,  have  passed  into  Mount  Seir.  Compare 
also  Ranke  Investigations  i.,  p.  '248,  &c.,  who  accounts  for  the 
notice  in  chap,  xxxvi. ,  from  the  jjeculiar  structure  of  Genesis. 
JS^o  doubt  the  four  hundred  men,  who  were  in  company  with. 
Esau,  joined  him  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  related  in  Judges 
xi.  3,  and  in  1  Sam.  xxii.  2.  Since  the  patriarchal  blessing 
originally  designed  for  him  had,  by  a  remarkable  concatenation 
of  circumstances,  been  transferred  to  Jacob,  his  relation  towards 
Isaac  will  probably  not  any  longer  have  been  so  close  and  cordial 
'AS  before.  His  profane  and  heathenish  disposition,  which  his 
mother  had  long  disliked,  must  also  have  more  and  more  alien- 
ated his  father,  when  once  liis  eyes  had  been  opened  to  his  real 
conckict.  AD  prospect  of  obtaining  the  promised  land  was  now 
taken  away,  for  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  even  Esau  ascribed 
implicit  i)owcr  to  the  blessing  of  his  father.  He  therefore  freely 
chooses  that,  which  from  the  first  God  had  destined  for  him,  and 
the  moi-e  readily,  that  he  felt  increasingly  ill  at  case  in  his 


RETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  (§  80.)  327 

father's  house,  and  that  the  quiet  and  peaceable  pastoral  life  did 
not  agree  with  his  rough  and  martial  disposition.  By  his  rela- 
tion with  the  Canaanites,  but  especially  with  the  house  of 
Ishmael,  he  obtained  auxiliaries  for  carrying  out  his  plans. 
Otherwise  also,  persons  of  equally  rough  and  martial  disposition 
with  himself,  may  have  readily  flocked  to  his  standai'd.  We  can 
only  venture  on  a  suggestion,  in  reply  to  the  enquiry,  why  Esau 
should  have  met  his  peaceful  brother  at  the  head  of  400  men. 
One  of  four  solutions  of  this  difficulty  can  be  adopted.  1.  He 
either  came  with  decidedly  hostile  intention,  in  order  now  to 
execute  the  long  intended  vengeance  upon  his  brother,  which 
Jacob's  flight  had  delayed  for  twenty  years  ;  or  else,  2dly,  to 
enjoy  the  cruel  and  indelicate  sport  of  causing  anxiety  to  Jacob  ; 
or,  3dly,  to  bring  out  the  strong  contrast  between  present  circum- 
stances and  the  promised  future,  so  far  as  the  relation  of  the 
two  brothers  was  concered,  and  thus  to  humble  Jacob  ;  or,  lastly,  it 
may  have  been  due  to  an  accidental  co-incidence  of  circumstances, 
since  Esau  liad  been  at  the  head  of  these  400  men,  with  other 
purposes  in  view,  when  the  messengers  of  Jacob  met  liim,  and, 
unAvilling  to  chsmiss  them,  had  taken  them  along  with  him, 
without,  however,  intending  anything  hostile  against  Jacob. 
The  latter  view  agrees  best  with  the  character  of  Esau.  Con- 
sidering his  light-mindedness  and  his  sanguine  character,  we  can 
scarcely  believe  that  he  had  for  twenty  years  cherished  and 
nourished  his  former  thoughts  of  vengeance,  the  more  so  as,  con- 
tent with  his  position,  wliich  was  outwardly  more  happy  and 
honoured  than  that  of  Jacob,  he  had  no  occasion  to  revive  his 
former  animosity.  In  point  of  fact,  when  Esau  met  Jacob,  Iris 
conduct  displays  only  studied  kindliness,  honesty,  and  openness. 
The  same  reasons  of  course  render  the  second  supposition  impos- 
sible ;  but  the  third  is  not  incompatible  with  these  views.  We 
achnit  that  the  whole  context,  the  re[)ort  of  the  messengers 
returning,  the  fear  of  God,  and  the  connection  between  the 
appearance  of  the  angel,  the  wresthng  with  God,  and  the 
a})proaching  meeting  with  Esau,  are  in  favom*  of  the  first  hypo- 
thesis ;  in  which  case  the  friendliness  of  Esau  towards  Jacob 
would  have  to  be  regarded  as  the  effect  of  divine  influence, 
bringing  about  a  change  in  the  disijosition  and  intention  of 
Esau.  But  we  decide  in  favour  of  the  fourth  supposition,  taken 
in  connection  with  the  third,  since  the  diWne  protection  and 
assistance  indicated  by  the  ai)pearance  of  the  angels  and  the 
wrestling  with  God  has,  objectively  and  subjectively,  in  this 
view  also,  its  fidl  meaning.  For,  considering  the  sid)jcctive 
position  of  Jacob,  the  danger  was  real  and  not  merely  imagi- 
nary, while,  ol)jectivcly  vicAved,  the  change  in  the  disposition  of 
Ksau  is  erpially  the  residt  of  divine  guidance,  whether  occasioucd 


328  JACOB.  (§  80.) 

by  natm-al  causes,  or  by  the  special  influence  of  Him  who  turns 
the  hearts  of  men,  as  streams  of  Avater. 

(3.)  The  remark  of  Tuch,  p.  466,  about  the  beautiful  and 
fervent  pkayer  of  Jacob,  v.  10 — 13,  is  more  than  "  a  httle 
inapt."  He  says :  "  The  writer  of  the  supplement  represents 
Jacob  as  someivhat  inaptly  reminding  God  of  His  commands 
and  promises,  in  verses  10  and  13,  thus  calling  upon  Him  now 
to  keep  His  word."  But  from  the  time  of  Jacob  to  that  of 
LutJier  and  om'  own  days,  those  who  have  experienced  the  jDOwer 
of  j)rayer  have  done  the  same,  and  therein  lies  the  greatest 
streng-th  and  the  highest  blessing  of  prayer. 

(4.)  In  Hosea  xii.  3,  &c.  we  read  about  the  wkestling  of 
Jacob  with  the  Angel  of  the  Lokd  : 

He  took  liis  brother  by  the  heel  in  the  womb, 
And  by  his  strength  he  had  power  with  Clod, 
Yea  he  had  power  over  the  angel  and  prevailed — 
He  wept  and  made  supphcation  to  him. 

From  the  text  it  would  appear  that  this  contest  was  the  hirn- 
ing  point  in  the  life  of  Jacob.  Before  that  we  notice  halting  on 
both  sides,  continual  attempts  at  self-deHverance,  lying  and 
deceiving,  artifices  and  cunning,  weak  and  defective  faith  ;  after- 
wards, we  descry  humihty  and  resignation  to  the  will  of  God, 
confidence  and  trust  in  God  and  in  His  leadings.  At  last,  the 
catastrophe,  long  preparing,  takes  place,  by  which  old  Jacob  is  to 
become  a  new  man,  and  the  wild  excrescences  of  a  richly  endowed 
nature  are  to  be  removed.  It  is  only  now  that  we  can  under- 
stand how  God  had  borne  with  all  his  perversity  and  so  visibly 
blessed  him,  notwithstanding  his  cunning  and  his  artifices.  All 
this  tended,  tln-ough  the  mercy  of  God,  to  lead  him  to  repent- 
ance. Much  labom-  and  sorrow,  many  trials  and  chastisements, 
and  much  pity  and  patience,  were  required  before  Jacob,  so 
strong  and  wise  in  himself,  was  humbled  and  broken  in  heart. 
But  the  more  glorious  also  was  the  fruit  of  this  long  and  difficult 
training. 

The  former  stages  in  the  life  of  Jacob  were  only  preparatory 
to  that  great  and  striking  event  to  which  they  pointed.  All 
along  it  had  been  a  struggle  on  the  part  of  a  clever  and  strong, 
a.  self-confident  and  self-sufficient  person,  who  was  only  sm'e  of 
the  result,  when  he  helped  himself — a  contest  with  God,  who 
wished  to  break  his  strength  and  liis  wisdom,  in  order  to  bestow 
upon  him  real  strength  in  di^dne  weakness,  and  real  wisdom  in 
cUvine  folly.  The  life  of  Jacob  had  been  a  continuous  struggle 
carried  on  by  the  patriarch  with  the  weapons  of  his  own 
sfi-ength  and  wisdom,  find  by  God,  with  the  weapons  of  grace,  of 


KETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  (§  80.)         329 

patience,  and  of  long-sufieiin<^.  This  stage  in  his  Hfe  closes  Avith 
the  fervent  prayer  uttered  bye  the  ford  Jabbok,  in  which  his 
oppressed  heart  found  rehef.  The  new  direction  of  his  soul, 
which  now  appears,  expresses  itself  in  the  full  confession  .*  "  I 
am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  the  mercies  and  of  all  the  truth 
which  thou  hast  shown  unto  thy  servant " — and  in  the  confident 
.entreaty :  "  Deliver  me  from  the  hand  of  my  brother,  for  thou 
saidst,  I  will  surely  do  thee  good,  &c."  In  this  confession  he  gives 
to  God  alone  the  glory,  as  formerly  he  had  taken  it  to  himself, 
and  in  this  prayer,  he  casts  away  all  confidence  in  his  own 
strength  and  wisdom,  wliich  hitherto  had  been  the  anchor  of  his 
life,  and  he  implicitly  throws  himself  upon  God  and  his  promise. 
But  this  new  direction,  and  with  it  the  result  of  all  his  former 
contests,  \ictories,  and  defeats — which  in  this  i)rayer  appeared 
as  yet  only  as  the  longing  of  his  heart — was  to  become  matter  of 
full  and  clear  consciousness.  Thus  the  import  of  all  his  former 
leadings  was  to  be  opened  up  before  him,  as  if  a  sealed  book, 
written  by  the  hand  of  God,  were  now  broken  open,  that  so  even 
the  last  remainder  of  self-confidence  and  self-deliverence  might 
be  removed.  For  this  purpose,  the  whole  course  of  his  former  life, 
with  all  its  contests  and  its  final  \dctory,  is  now  repeated  and 
concentrated  into  one  pregnant  fact ;  and  in  bringing  before  him 
such  a  fact,  God  presents  to  the  soul  of  Jacob,  as  it  were,  in 
the  glass  of  self-contemplation,  a  clear  representation  of  the 
important  bearings  of  his  former  life.  Such  is  the  purpose  and 
meaning  of  the  wrestling  with  which  the  first  stage  of  Jacob's 
life  closes  ;  and  the  delaration  :  "  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face, 
and  my  soul  has  recovei-ed"  proves  that  he  had  understood  the 
transaction  in  this  manner. 

Jacob's  apprehension  of  an  impending  contest  with  Esau,  forms 
the  basis  of  the  event  here  recorded.  The  fuuntains  of  his  own 
strength,  wisdom,  cunning,  and  artifices,  which  had  hitherto 
flowed  so  plentifully,  are  wholly  dried  up  in  view  of  the  power  of 
Esau.  Besides,  he  feels  and  knows  that  in  many  respects  he  had 
been  in  the  wrong  towards  his  brother,  and  that  his  attempts 
against  him  were,  at  the  sametime,  and  chiefly,  iittempts  against 
Jehovah.  Hence  the  great  and  important  truth  which  was  now 
to  become  matter  of  clear  consciousness  to  him,  was  that  he  had 
not  only  to  apprehend  the  wrath  and  vengeance  of  Esau,  l)ut 
also  that  of  Jehovah.  Indeed,  his  wrong  towards  Esau  was  no 
longer  of  such  importance  as  in  many  respects  it  had  been 
counterbalanced  l)y  Esau's  wrong  against  Jacob.  The  "  restitu- 
tio in  integrum"  had  already  taken  ])lace  in  reference  to  his 
relationship  towards  his  brother,  and  the  Nemesis  had  fully  com- 
pleted in  the  life  of  Jacol),  anything  which,  in  this  respect,  might 
yet  have  been  awanting.      But  Jeliovnli,  on  whom  he  has  placed 


330  JACOB.  (§  80.) 

his  sole  dependance  against  Esau,  is  now  his  real,  his  chief,  and 
his  first  enemy.  The  "  restitutio  in  integrum "'  is  yet  awanting 
in  his  relationship  towards  Jehovah  ;  the  ungodly  artifices  and 
cunning,  the  lying  and  deceit,  Avhereby  he  has  desecrated  God's 
holy  work,  and  the  great  purposes  which  He  had  in  view,  are  yet 
unatoned.  His  guilt  towards  Jehovah  consists  in  this,  that  in 
virtue  of  the  covenant  Jacob  has,  as  it  were,  involved  Him,  who 
on  account  of  the  covenant  coidd  not  give  him  up,  in  the  degra- 
dation of  his  own  trickeries — and  this  guilt  is  not  yet  removed, 
Grod  is,  indeed,  willing,  in  virtue  of  the  covenant,  to  help  him 
against  Esau,  and  on  account  of  the  irrefragable  promise  given 
He  will  certainly  come  to  his  assistance.  But  Jehovah  will  not 
make  common  cause  with  Jacob,  in  a  common  contest  against 
the  common  enemy,  until  that  wliich  had  disturbed  the  relation 
between  them  has  been  settled,  and  that  relation  itself  restored 
to  its  full  purity.  Therefore,  while  Jacob  is  chiefly  concerned 
about  the  dangers  which  continually  threaten  liim  from  Esau, 
God  meets  him  as  an  enemy,  and  wrestles  with  him  till  the  day 
breaks.  By  this  hostile  encounter  he  virtually  says :  "  I  am  thy 
real  and  most  dangerous  enemy,  prevail  with  me  and  thou  shalt 
have  nothing  to  apprehend  from  a  contest  with  Esau."  But  thei'e 
is  a  second  consideration  also,  which  had  sometliing  to  do  in  this 
contest.  Jacob  is  about  to  re-enter  the  land  of  promise.  That  he 
is  allowed  to  return  laden  with  rich  blessings,  is  the  result  of  the 
covenant-assistance  and  the  blessing  of  God.  But  the  perverse- 
ness  manifested  in  the  former  life  of  Jacob,  which  had  drawn 
upon  him  the  wrath  of  God,  renders  him  both  unwoithy  of  and 
unfit  for  entering  into  the  land  of  promise.  Hence,  in  this  re- 
spect also,  must  the  difference  obtaining  between  them  be  settled  ; 
and  on  this  ground  also  must  Jacob  prevail  against,  the  wrath  of 
God  and  the  covenant-relationship  be  restored  "  in  integrum." 

It  is  of  great  importance  for  understanding  this  transaction  to 
ascertain  whether  Jacob  had,  from  the  fii'st  or  only  during  the 
progress  of  the  contest,  recognised  the  person  who  met  him  in 
hostile  encounter  as  the  angel  of  the  Lord.  It  cannot  be  doubted 
that  he  had  become  aware  of  the  fact  when  he  said  :  "  I  will  not 
let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me."  But  similarly  the  manner 
in  which  he  meets  the  attack  of  the  man,  seems  to  imply  that 
he  had  not  from  the  first,  at  least  not  distinctly,  recognised  the 
character  of  liis  opponent.  Tliis  is  also  conveyed  in  the  expres- 
sion :  "  There  Avrestled  a  man  wdth  him."  Hence  Ave  shall  have 
to  fix  upon  a  period  heftveen  the  two  limits  above  indicated,  when 
Jacob  became  quite  certain  of  the  character  of  him  with  whom 
he  contended.  This  we  suppose  took  place  when  the  man,  hav- 
ing touched  the  hollow  of  his  thigh,  and  put  it  out  of  joint,  said 
to  him:  "Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh,"      Tliat  moment 


UETUriN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  (§  80.)  331 

seems  quite  adapted  for  the  purpose  in  view.  Even  the  proximity 
ot"  that  heavenly  apparition  must  have  filled  the  soul  of  Jacob 
with  anxious  expectation.  This  feeling  must  have  increased 
dming  the  wrestling,  and  attained  its  climax  when  his  tliigh  was 
out  of  joint,  and  all  hope  of  prevailing  in  the  contest  was  taken 
away.  But  then,  instead  of  destrojdng  Jacob,  who  was  incapaci- 
tated for  prolonging  the  contest  as  a  human  adversary  would 
liave  done,  the  man  utters  those  strange  words  which  so  clearly 
pointed  to  a  mysterious  and  unearthly  apparition  ;  and  by  these 
words  the  anxious  anticipation  of  the  patriarch  became  certainty. 
In  this  decisive  moment  he  collects  himself  and  seizes  the  weapons 
of  prayer  and  of  entreaty  by  which  alone  it  is  possible  to  prevail 
with  God,  and  he  does  prevail  with  him,  so  that  he  yields,  and, 
as  he  had  entreated,  blesses  him. 

Above  we  have  seen  that  this  wonch-ous  transaction,  the  pro- 
gress and  result  of  the  contest,  was  intended  to  convey  to  Jacob 
a  concrete  representation  of  the  bearing  of  his  former  life.     As 
in  the  tirst  place  he  had  contended  against  "  the  man,"  with  all  the 
might  of  his  natural  strength,   without  clearly  and  distinctly 
knowing  that  he  really  contended  with  God,  so  had  he  formerly, 
through  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  while  imagining  that  lie 
contended  against  human  opponents,  in  reality  contended  with 
God,  and  that  with  all  the  might  of  his  own  carnal  strength, 
with  deceit  and  with  cunning.      For  a  long  time,  even  till  the 
breaking  of  day,  the  issue  of  the  contest  remained  undecided. 
But  when  the  man  saw  that  he  could  not  prevail  against  him,  he 
touched  the  hollow  of  his  thigh,  and  the  hollow  of  Jacob's 
thigh  was  out  of  joint,  as  he  wrestled  with  him.       So  had  God, 
all  through  Jacob's  life,  wrestled  with  him  and  not  prevailed 
against  him,  because  the  strength  and  wisdom  in  which  Jacob 
withstood  God  had  not  been  broken.      But  when  a  new  day  is 
about  to  dawn,  it  appears  that  God  is  stronger  than  he,  and  that 
the  endurance  of  God  had  borne  the  victory  over  the  resistance 
offered  by  the  old  man  in  Jacob.     As  with  the  thigh  the  seat  of 
the  natural  strength  in  which  lie  had  contended  was  paralysed, 
and  he  has  now  to  betake  himself  to  entreaty  and  prayer,  so  on 
the  last  day  of  his  former  life,  all  confidence  in  his  own  strength 
which  he  had  hitherto  cherished,  all  trust  in  his  natural  cunning 
and  cleverness,  is  cast  away.     He  acknowledges  that  he  is  over- 
come (chap,  xxxii.  11)  and  only  appeals  to  the  grace  and  the 
promise  of  God  (chap,  xxxii.  13.)      Our  interpretation  of  this 
wrestling  differs  from  that  hitherto  common  in  this,  that  we  do 
not  find  the  reason  of  the  victoiy  of  Jacob  over  Jehovah,  in  the 
(•(Mitinuance  of  his  bodily  wrestling  as    a  symbol  of  spiritual 
wiestling,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  we  regard  this  very  bodily 
wrcslling  as  representing  the  perversity  wliich  had  characterised 


332  JACOB.  (§80.) 

Ills  former  life.  Manifestly  the  dislocation  of  his  thigh  consti- 
tutes the  turning  point  in  the  history.  Formerly  his  wi-estling 
had  been  bodily,  but  its  continuation  had  become  impossible 
when  his  thigh  was  out  of  joint.  He  now  betakes  liimself  to 
other  weapons,  and  his  wrestling  becomes  spiritual.  These  two 
kinds  of  wrestling,  the  one  in  his  bodily  strength,  the  other  in  the 
spiritual  strength  of  prayer,  are  evidently  opposed  to  each  other  ; 
and  Jacob  prevails  through  the  latter  and  not  through  the  for- 
mer. Hence  the  contest  in  which  he  succumbs  cannot  be  a 
representation  of  spirtual  wrestling  which,  under  all  circum- 
stances, has  the  promise  of  victory.  On  the  contrary,  as  bodily 
strength  forms  the  contrast  to  spiritual  strength,  it  must  rather 
be  the  representation  of  carnal,  non-spiritual  and  ungodly  wrest- 
ling *in  the  strength  of  unsanctified  nature. 

Not  less  clearly  and  distinctly  than  from  the  account  in 
Genesis  does  this  interpretation  appear  to  be  correct  on  a  com- 
parison with  the  explanation  of  the  narrative  in  Hosea.  Comp. 
especially  Umbreit,  Pract.  Comm.  iv.  p.  82  &c.,  who  thus  points 
out  the  connection  and  the  meaning  of  the  prophetic  declaration 
in  verses  1 — 3.  "Again,  is  the  address  of  the  prophet  levelled 
against  faithless  Epln-aim.  The  latter  is  charged  with  cunning 
against  God,  as  if  he  had  surrounded  Him  with  the  meshes  of 
lying  and  deceiving.  And  Judah  also  still  walks  in  the  ways  of 
unfaithfulness,  seeks  here  and  there  after  strange  gods  besides 
Jehovah,  who  as  a  husband  keeps  inviolate  the  covenant  which 

He  had  once  made  with  liis  people Therefore,  the 

everlasting  justice  of  the  living  and  jealous  God  must  manifest 
itself  to  shake  Judah  and  Ephraim  from  this  vanity, 
verse  4  to  7.  The  prophet  makes  apt  use  of  what  the  sacred 
legend  records,  about  the  typical  cimning  of  their  ancestor  and 
the  meaning  of  his  name.  That  which  attaches  to  the  people  as 
its  special  guilt — deceit  and  a  co7itest  against  God — had  already 
appeared  from  the  commencement  in  their  ancestor  according  to 
the  flesh.  Even  in  his  mother's  womb,  and  before  he  had  at- 
tained consciousness,  Jacob  held  his  brother  Esau  by  the  heel  to 
prevent  him  as  the  first-born ;  and  when  he  had  attained  to  the 
age  of  maturity  he  contends  with  God.  But  nothing  can  thus  be 
gained  from  God.  If  man  is  to  prevail  with  him,  he  must  weep 
and  entreat ;  thus  Jacob  also  attained  his  pre-eminence  only  in  the 
way  of  humiliation  and  of  sincere  prayer.  Thei-eby  only  became 
he  the  blessed  friend  of  the  living  God,  &c."  While  the  prophetic 
application  of  the  history  of  this  wresthng  shews  that  Jacob's 
carnal  contest  wth  God  was  entii'ely  parallel  with  the  perversity 
of  Ephraim  and  of  Judah,  who  also  contended  against  God  with 
the  carnal  weapons  of  cunning  and  deceit,  Ave  are  at  the  same 
time  directed  to  the  t^Ttical  meaning  of  this  transaction.      We 


RETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  (§  80.)  333 

learn  that  this  contest,  wliich  formed  the  high-point  in  the  hfe 
of  Jacob  was,  in  virtue  of  a  real  but  mysterious  co-relation 
between  the  ancestor  and  his  progeny — the  prototype  of  the  his- 
tory of  that  nation  of  whom  Jacob  was  the  father.  Throughout 
the  whole  of  their  history  Jehovah  wrestles  with  the  chosen 
people,  in  order  to  gain  and  to  prepare  them  for  his  own  purposes. 
But  throughout  their  whole  history,  this  people  contend  in 
almost  all  their  generations  against  God,  by  their  own  works 
and  their  own  devices,  by  cunning,  lying,  and  deceit,  until  in  the 
contest  God  touches  and  puts  out  of  joint  the  thigh  of  their  own 
strength,  when,  Hke  their  ancestor,  they  exclaim :  I  will  not  let 
thee  go  except  thou  bless  me,"  and  like  him  they  are  blessed. 

From  the  above  statements  it  will  sufficiently  appear  that  we 
suppose  the  contest  of  Jacob  to  have  taken  place,  neither  in 
dremn,  nor  in  vision^  nor  in  the  ecstatic  state,  but  in  outward 
reality,  and  in  a  state  of  wakefulness.  Even  the  halting  which 
was  the  consequence  of  this  wrestHng  could  only  have  been  the 
result  of  a  real  and  outward  contest.  The  supposed  observa- 
tion that  any  powerful  excitement  of  the  inner  life  (whether  in 
dream  or  in  the  ecstatic  state)  may  lead  to  analogous  bodily 
effects,  which  continue  ever  afterwards  in  the  "  wakeful  state,"  is 
by  no  means  certain.  On  the  contrary,  in  most  instances  of  that 
kind  it  is  rather  the  bodily  ailment  which  gives  to  the  dream 
its  peculiar  and  analogous  form  (comp.  Friedreich,  Notes  to 
Bible,  i.  p.  187.) 

But  it  is  quite  decisive  on  the  point  that  the  text  contains  not 
the  slightest  indication  that  this  wi-estling  had  been  different 
from  the  passage  over  Jabbok  (v.  23),  and  from  the  breaking  of 
the  day  (v.  26  compared  with  v.  31.)  Again,  it  is  not  more 
difficult  to  believe  that  the  angel  of  the  Lord  should,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  have  really  wi*estled  with  Jacob  than  that  he 
should  outwardly  and  perceptibly  have  entered  the  tent  of  Abra- 
ham, have  allowed  his  feet  to  be  washed,  and  condescended  to 
jiartake  of  tlie  feast  which  the  patriarch  had  hospitably  spread 
for  him  (Gen.  xviii.  v.  1,  4,  8.)  The  remark  of  Hengstenlwrg 
(Balaam  p.  51)  "that  in  an  external  contest  and  wTestling  it 
would  have  been  impossible  to  prevail  by  prayer  and  tears," 
requires  not  refutation.  It  falls  to  the  ground  when  we  bear 
in  mind  that  the  outward  contest  of  bodily  wrestling  and  the 
spiritual  contest  by  prayers  and  tears,  were  distinct  and  even 
opposite  transactions. 

Jacob  obtains  the  new  name  Israel  =■  "  Wrestler  vnih.  God," 
because  something  new  has  been  attained  by  the  issue  of  this 
contest.  At  first  sight  it  appears  indeed  strange  that  his  former 
name  does  not  henceforth  wholly  disappear,  but  continues  along 
with  the  new,  and  is  even  more  commonly  employed,  so  that  the 


334  JACOB.   (§  80.) 

name  of  Israel  only  occurs  when  something  peculiarly  solemn  is 
intended  to  be  conveyed.  This  circumstance  must  appear  the 
more  striking  as  the  former  name  of  Abraham  had  entirely  dis- 
appeared when  he  had  obtained  his  new  designation.  Besides, 
the  name  Israel  is  afterwards  again  conferred  upon  Jacob  (chap. 
XXXV.  10),  as  if  he  had  not  before  borne  it.  But  here  we  remark 
that  these  two  circumstances  (the  use  of  the  old  name  along 
with  the  new,  and  the  repetition  of  the  bestowal  of  the  name) 
are  connected  with  and  support  each  other  (comp.  our  remarks 
on  chap,  xxxv.)  But  even  after  the  name  had  in  chap.  xxxv. 
been  again  given,  the  two  designations  still  occur.  It  would  not 
in  the  least  explain  the  difficulty  if  we  were  to  suppose  that 
chaps,  xxxii.  and  xxxiii.  were  written  by  two  different  authors 
(as  is  proposed  by  StdheUn,  though  Tuch  feels  constrained  to 
ascribe  them  to  the  same  writer,  comp.  our  "  Unity  of  Genesis," 
pp.  166,  &G.,  and  170,  &c.),  because  both  the  supposed  authors 
employ  the  two  names  side  by  side  with  each  other.  Hengstenherg 
(Contrib.  ii. ,  p.  279)  rightly  observes  that  this  question  cannot 
])e  answered  by  a  merely  external  consideration  of  the  names. 
His  reply  satisfactorily  shews  wliy  the  use  of  the  old  name  may 
have  been  retained  along  with  the  new.  He  observes:  "The 
name  Abraham  indicates  his  destination  by  God.  After  the 
promise  had  been  given,  that  name  must  have  continued  along 
with  the  object  which  it  indicated.  But  the  name  Israel  only  in- 
dicates a  subjective  state,  or  is  at  least  based  on  it.  Hence  the  old 
name  continues  along  with  the  new,  and  because  the  name  stands 
in  closest  connection  with  the  object  indicated  by  it,  it  always 
re-appears  when  the  object  is  again  brought  forward."  Again 
the  name  Israel,  and  not  the  old  name  Jacob,  is  selected  for  the 
chosen  race,  manifestly  because  the  latter  was  given  by  man,  and 
is  that  of  nature,  while  the  former  was  given  by  God,  and  is  that 
of  grace  and  of  the  Divine  calling.  By  taking  the  name  of 
Israel,  the  people  indicated  that  only  through  God's  gracious 
leading  they  had  become  what  they  were.  But  if  the  name 
Israel  was  used  to  indicate  the  nation  and  its  ancestor  as  the 
representative  of  the  whole  race,  it  was  natural  that  by  way  of 
distinction  the  name  Jacob  should  have  been  used  to  designate 
more  especially  this  ancestor  as  a  single  individual ;  hence  the 
author  of  Genesis,  who  was  conscious  of  this  distinction,  so 
frequently  employs  the  name  Jacob  in  tracing  the  individual 
history  of  this  ancestor. 

Although  Jacob  feels  already  certain  that  it  was  God  Himself 
with  whom  he  had  wrestled,  he  still  asks  "the  man"  for  his 
name.  The  angel  of  the  Lord  evades  any  reply  to  this  question 
(just  as  in  Judges  xiii.  16 — 18.)  The  novelty  and  strangeness 
of  the  manifestation  of  God  in  this  contest  awakens  the  desire  in 


EETURN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  ("§  80,  81.)       335 

Jacob  to  fix  it  in  his  niiiul,  and  to  recall  it  by  attaching  to  it  a 
new  and  corresponding  name  of  God.  But,  as  the  angel  does 
not  satisfy  his  request,  this  desire  seems  to  have  been  precipitate. 
Tlie  time  had  not  yet  arrived  when  that  mode  of  Divine  mani- 
festation, of  wliich  the  Maleach  Jehovah  was  the  representative 
should  attain  to  that  perfectness  and  maturity  in  history  which 
rendered  a  specific  name  necessary  in  order  to  exhibit  its  character. 
Jacob  says :  "I  have  seen  God  face  to  face,'' whereby,  according 
to  the  measure  of  his  knowledge,  he  designates,  as  it  were,  the 
angel  as  "  the  face  of  the  Lord,"  and  he  perpetuates  this  for  all 
future  generations  by  calling  the  place  "Pw^'e^." 

Before  passing  from  the  consideration  of  this  event,  we  must 
glance  at  the  contrast,  and  the  opposition  between  it  and  the 
angelic  apparition  in  Mahanaim.  There  God  meets  Jacob  with 
an  heavenly  embassy  who,  at  the  entrance  of  the  promised  land 
are  to  welcome  him  as  its  proprietor  and  heir,  and  to  assure  him 
of  Divine  protection  and  assistance  against  all  enemies  and  oppo- 
nents. Here — almost  immediately  afterwards — the  same  God 
meets  liim  by  the  way  as  an  enemy  and  opponent,  and  is  about 
to  prevent  him  from  re-entering  the  Holy  Land.  This  relation 
between  God  and  Jacob  bears  the  same  double  aspect  as  that 
between  Jacob  and  God,  and  the  former  is  occasioned  by  the 
latter.  Viewed  objectively  Jacob  was  the  friend  of  God  and  the 
heir  of  promise,  and  in  this  respect  the  angels  appeared  to  him 
in  Mahanaim.  Viewed  subjectively,  there  was  much  in  Jacob 
which  was  contrary  to  God,  and  hence  the  contest  in  Pniel. 

§  8L-  (Gen.  xxxiii.) — Jacob  who,  in  his  contest  with  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  had,  by  prayer  and  entreaty,  prevailed  against 
his  most  dangerous  enemy,  now  also  prevails  by  hiunility  and 
modesty  against  Esau,  wdio  comes  to  meet  him  with  400  men. 
Overcome  by  the  humility  of  Jacob,  and  by  the  kindliness  of  his 
own  heart,  Esau  falls  upon  his  neck,  embraces,  and  kisses  him  (L) 
It  is  with  reluctance  that  he  accepts  the  rich  presents  of  Jacob 
and  he  offers  to  accompany  him  to  the  end  of  his  joiu-ney  with 
his  men  of  arms — a  proposition  which  Jacob  declines  in  a  friendly 
spirit.  Thus  the  two  brothers,  long  separated  in  friendship  and 
affection,  are  reconciled  to  each  other.  Their  good  understand- 
ing remained  undisturbed  till  the  day  of  their  death.  Jacob 
continued  his  journey  northward  along  the  valley  of  the  Jordan 
to  the  neighbourhood  oi  Succoth  (2),  Avhcre  probably  he  remained 
for  some  time.  Thence  he  passed  over  Jordan,  and  throuoli  the 
plain  Jezreel  into  the  highlands  of  Eplu'aim,  wliere  he  settled  in 


336  JACOB.  (§81.) 

the  neighbourhood  of  Sychem.  The  purchase  of  a  field,  and  the 
erection  of  an  altar,  which,  to  designate  all  his  leadings  in  life, 
he  called  El  Elohe-Israel,  indicate  his  joy  in  having,  after  his  long 
pilgrimage,  once  more  found  a  home  in  the  land  of  promise  (3.) 

(1.)  On  this  account  of  their  reconciliation,  Tuch  remarks 
(p.  470)  :  "  The  ojDenness  and  the  honesty  of  Esau  form  an 
agreeable  contrast  to  the  cringing  of  the  timorous  Jacob."  But 
however  willing  we  are  to  acknowledge  the  good  parts  in  the 
character  of  Esau,  and  however  little  we  desu*e  to  conceal  the  de- 
fects and  wealcnesses  in  that  of  Jacob,  we  cannot  call  his  conduct 
timid  cringing,  but  rather  real  and  genuine  humility.  The 
conduct  of  Jacob  shews  the  prudence  and  submission  of  one  who 
understands  the  present  circumstances,  and  readily  bows  to  the 
arrangement.  Any  rebeUion  against  them  or  want  of  considera- 
tion would  only  have  been  a  piece  of  mad  fanaticism.  In  the 
meantime,  and  whether  he  deserved  it  or  not,  Esau  possessed 
external  advantages,  and  was  the  more  powerful ;  and,  although 
his  future  destiny  assigned  to  liim  a  higher  position,  Jacob  was 
at  the  time  under  outward  disadvantages,  and  the  circumstance 
that  in  this  he  must  have  recognised  a  well-merited  retribution, 
only  makes  it  the  more  his  duty  really  and  readily  to  submit  to 
the  present  contrast.  On  the  other  hand,  while  we  do  not  deny 
the  openness,  honesty,  and  kindliness  of  Esau,  we  must  not  forget 
that  the  consciousness  that  his  brother  was  not  equal  to  him  in 
prosperity  and  power,  rendered  his  friendliness  and  yielding  more 
easy,  and  gave  greater  assurance  to  his  conduct.  For  the 
character  of  the  two  brothers,  and  their  conduct  to  each  other, 
comp.  also  Drechsler  (Unity  of  Genesis,  p.  231,  &c.) 

(2.)  SuccoTH,  where  afterwards  a  city  was  built,  lay  in  the 
valley  of  the  Jordan,  on  the  eastern  bank  of  that  river,  and 
within  the  possession  of  Gad  (Josh.  xiii.  27,  Judges  viii.  5), 
"  civitas  trans  Jordanem  in  parte  Scypthopoleos"  (Hieronymus, 
ad  Gen.  xxxiii.  17.)  It  is  therefore  a  mistake  in  Winer,  2d  ed., 
and  before  him  in  Raumer  and  others,  to  identify  our  Succoth 

with  the  ruins  of  a  place  laJu«  (wliich  name  in  Hebrew  would  at 
any  rate  be  t5pU>)>  which  Bwkhardt  (ii.,  p.  595)  discovered  on 
the  western  bank  of  Jordan,  to  the  south  of  Beisan  (Bethshean) 
or  Scythopolis.  Tuch  (p.  471),  without  any  reason,  supposes 
that  the  city  had  been  built  on  both  banks  of  the  Jordan. 
Delitzsch  suggests  that  Scythopolis  had  derived  its  name  from 
an  erroneous  combination  of  Succoth  with  the  Sc}i,hs.  We  may 
confidently  infer  that  Jacob  had  for  some  time  remained  in  Suc- 
coth from  the  circumstance  that  he  had  there  built  him  an  house, 
and  made  booths  for  his  cattle.     The  hurry  and  the  toil  of  his 


RETUKN  OF  JACOB  TO  CANAAN.  (§81.)  337 

flight,  and  tlie  consequent  discaxler  and  fiiitigiie  of  his  journey, 
may  have  made  a  longer  stay  necessary,  when  once  he  had  reached 
a  secure  resting-phxce. 

(3.)  Luther  and  our  aufJiori'sed  version  translate  verse  18: 
"  Jacob  came  to  Shalem,  a  city  of  Sliecliem,"  a  rendering  of  wliich 
even  Bohinson  approves,  because  he  had  found  a  village  called 
Salim  in  the  neighbourliood  of  Sychem.  But  without  doubt 
D^li?'  i^  \'^GVQ  an  adjective  =  "  untouched,  unharmed"  (comp. 
Uengstenherg ,  Comm.  to  Psalms,  p.  331.)  For  in  verse  18 
Shechem  is  expressly  mentioned  as  being  the  first  station  in  the 
land  of  Canaan  reached  by  Jacob,  and  the  word  Q^^i  is  manifestly 

intended  to  point  back  to  the  D"i^tr3,  ^^^  ^^^^  "^"^^  ^^  Jacob  (chap. 
xx\'iii.  21.)  What  at  the  time  Jacob  had,  in  virtue  of  the  pro- 
mise in  verses  3  and  13,  mentioned  as  the  condition  of  his  vow, 
had  now  become  fulfilled.  To  this  points  both  the  use  of  the 
word  D^';^*',  and  the  addition  of  the  terms,  "in  the  land  of  Canaan," 
which  would  else  be  wholly  useless.  On  the  position  and  neigh- 
bourliood of  the  city  of  Sychem,  comp.  §  51,  (J.  Having  arrived 
at  Sycliem,  the  place  wliere  Abraham  had  first  felt  himself  in 
the  Holy  Land,  and  where  he  had  erected  an  altar  to  the  Grod 
who  there  appeared  to  him,  Jacob  realised  that  he  was  again  at 
home  in  the  land  of  promise,  and  at  tlie  end  of  his  pilgrimage. 
This  happy  consciousness  he  now  expresses  by  the  purchase  of  a 
piece  of  ground,  and  by  the  erection  of  an  altar.  The  purchase 
OF  land  from  the  Shechemites  may  perliaps  have  been  occasioned 
by  the  circumstance  that  at  this  time  the  country  had  already 
been  more  fully  inhabited  than  when  Abraham  entered  it ;  and, 
wliile  the  latter  buys  an  inheritance  only  for  a  buri/ing-jjiace,  the 
former  must  procure  one  also  for  a  diceUing-ijlace.  The  purchase 
price  amounted  to  a  hundred  kesitah.  The  more  ancient  trans- 
lators all  rendered  this  term  by  "  lambs,"  but  the  Jews  understood 
it  to  refer  to  a  piece  of  money  (comp.  also  Acts  vii.  16  :  "A  piece 
of  money"),  and  later  writers  fBochart,  Milnter,  &c.)  combined 
these  two  opinions  by  suggesting  that  it  was  a  piece  of  money 
bearing  the  impress  of  a  lamb.  It  is  impossible  to  ascertain  any- 
thing about  its  value,  not  even  from  a  comparison  with  Genesis 
xxiii.  16  (compare  Gesenius,  Thes.,  p.  1241  ;  Wiseman,  Connect, 
between  Sc.  and  Kev.  Rel.  ;  Bertlteau,  2  Dissert.,  p.  24.)  On 
the  well  near  Sychem,  which  tradition  identifies  with  the  well 
of  Jacob  (John  iv.  5),  and  ascribes  to  the  patriarchs,  so  that  it 
would  at  the  same  time  indicate  the  situation  of  the  field  purchased 
by  Jacob,  comp.  liobinson,  ii.  pp.  283 — 287.  This  well  lies  at  the 
southern  debouchure  of  the  valley  of  Shechem.  Bohinson  defends 
the  authenticity  of  tliis  tradition.  As  Abraham  (chap,  xii.  7),  so 
Jacob  also  erects  an  altar  near  Shechem,  which  he  calls  El-clohe- 

VOL.   I.  Y 


338  JACOB.  (§81,  82.) 

Israel  (God  the  God  of  Israel.)  In  Mesopotamia  he  had  not 
been  allowed  to  erect  an  altar.  This  was  only  lawful  in  the  land 
of  promise,  which  God  had  chosen  as  His  pecnhar  place  of  wor- 
ship. The  name  attaching  to  the  altar  would  recall  to  his 
posterity  the  result  of  those  leadings  in  his  life  by  which  Jacob 
had  become  Israel.  In  reply  to  the  question  sometimes  raised, 
why  Jacob  should  not  have  immediately  gone  to  his  father  to 
Hebron  (where  probably  he  resided  at  the  time,  chap.  xxxv.  27), 
we  would  say  that  Jacob  may  have  paid  one  or  more  visits  to 
his  father,  either  from  Shechem  or  even  from  Succoth,  without 
the  circumstance  being  expressly  mentioned  in  the  narrative. 
From  chap.  xxxv.  8,  compared  with  chap.  xxiv.  59,  we  gather 
at  any  rate  that  soon  after  his  return  Jacob  must  have  come  into 
immediate  contact  with  the  house  of  his  father,  for,  according  to 
chap,  xxxv.,  we  find  the  nurse  of  Rebekah,  who  in  chap.  xxiv. 
had  been  in  the  house  of  Isaac,  now  in  tliat  of  Jacob.  But 
Jacob  no  longer  subordinated  his  own  household  to  that  of  his 
father,  because  in  virtue  of  God's  leadings  he  had  now  been  con- 
stituted tlie  representative  of  the  promise,  while  after  Isaac  had 
bestowed  the  blessing  upon  Jacob,  his  work,  so  far  as  he  was  the 
representative  of  the  promise,  was  finished. 


JACOB  A  PILGRIM  IN  THE  HOLY  LAND. 

§  82.  (Gen.  xxxiv.) — Dm'ing  the  stay  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Shechem,  Dinah,  the  daughter  of  Jacob  by  Leah,  was  tempted 
to  go  out  to  see  the  daughters  of  the  land.  Her  presumption 
was  soon  punished.  Shechem,  the  son  of  Hamor,  prince  of  the 
country,  carried  her  away  and  defiled  her  (1.)  But  his  heart 
clave  to  the  girl,  and  he  sought  by  every  means  to  gain  the  con- 
sent of  her  relatives  to  his  marriage  with  her.  At  his  request, 
Hamor  goes  to  the  tent  of  Jacob  to  ask  for  her.  Jacob,  deeply 
grieved  by  the  tidings  of  this  disgrace,  was  silent,  waiting  for 
the  return  of  his  absent  sons,  the  brothers  of  Dinah  by  the  same 
mother.  But  they  were  incensed  to  the  utmost,  and  had  resolved 
on  taldng  bloody  revenge.  However,  they  cunningly  dissemble 
any  manifestations  of  their  resentment,  and,  when  Hamor  and 
Shechem,  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice,  in  friendly  and  cordial 
suggestion  insist  that  their  two  families  and  tribes  should  inter- 
marry, they  appear  to  consent  to  the  proposition.  They  only 
make  the  condition  that  all  the  men  of  Shechem  should  be  cir- 


JAC015  A  riLGKIM  IN  THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  82.)  339 

cuinci-sed.  Affection  lends  yiiecliem  eloquence,  and  by  an  exag- 
gerated representation  of  the  advantages  resulting  from  such  an 
alliance,  he  succeeds  in  inducing  all  the  citizens  of  Shechem  to 
undergo  circumcision.  But  on  the  third  day,  when  the  fever 
connected  with  the  operation  rendered  them  incapable  of  defend- 
ing themselves,  Simeon  and  Levi,  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  their 
servants,  fall  upon  the  city,  and,  without  the  knowledge  or  con- 
sent of  Jacob,  slay  all  the  males,  spoil  the  city,  and  take  all  their 
wives  and  children  captives  (2.)  In  reply  to  the  apprehensions, 
the  complaints,  and  the  reproaches  of  Jacob,  they  only  say, 
"  should  he  deal  with  our  sister  as  with  an  harlot  F"  (3.) 

(1.)  BoJden,  in  his  Comment.,  p.  327,  declares  that  according 
to  the  chronological  data  of  the  text,  Dinah  could,  at  the  time  of 
this  occurrence,  have  only  been  six  or  seven  years  old.  But  the 
gross  mistake  of  tliis  statement  is  evident  (comp.  Hengstenherg, 
Oontrib  iii.,  p.  352,  <fec.,  and  Beiuke,  Contrib.,  p.  98,  &c.) 
According  to  chap.  xxx.  31 — 24,  Dinah  and  Joseph  were  about 
the  same  age.  Again,  from  chap,  xxxvii.  2,  it  appears  that 
Joseph  was  at  least  seventeen  years  old  when  he  was  sold  into 
Egypt.  But  the  only  transaction  intervening  in  point  of  time 
between  the  seduction  of  Dinah  and  the  selling  of  Joseph  was 
the  journey  from  Shechem  to  Bethel,  and  from  thence  to  Mamre 
(chap.  XXXV.)  We  may  therefore,  without  any  difficulty,  assume 
that  Dinah  was  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  old  wlien  carried  away 
by  Shechem  (a  statement  with  which  Lengerke  also  agrees,  v. 
Canaan  i.,  p.  320.)  Further,  it  tallies  with  these  dates  that 
between  the  birth  of  Dinah  and  her  seduction,  six  years  of  servi- 
tude on  the  pait  of  Jacob,  a  protracted  stay  at  Succoth,  where 
Jacob  had  built  him  an  house,  and  at  Shechem,  where  he  had 
purchased  ground  and  regularly  settled,  had  intervened.  It  is 
also  well  known  that  in  tlie  East  the  puberty  of  females  takes 
place  in  their  twelfth  year,  or  even  earlier  (comp.  Nielmhr, 
Description  of  Ai'abia,  p.  72.)  The  statement  of  Joseplius 
(Antiq.  i.,  21,  1)  that  a  feast  of  the  Shechemites  had  been  the 
occasion  of  the  tliouglitless  and  blameworthy  excursion  of  Dinah 
is  not  improbable.  The  city  of  Shechem  had  not  existed  at  the 
time  of  Abraham,  as  in  chap.  xii.  G  we  only  read  of  "  the  place 
of  Shechem."  Hence  it  is  probable  that  Hamor  had  founded  the 
city,  and  called  it  after  his  son  Shechem  (comp.  Genesis  iv,  2'?r)  '' 
Its  inhabitants  weie  by  descent  Hivites.  ' 

(3.)  Even  from  the  relation  between  Laban  and  Rebekah  as 
described  in  chap.  xxiv.  v.  50,  55,  &c.,  we  gather  that  besides 
the  father,  the  sons  by  the  same  mother  had  a  decisive  voice  in 

y2 


340  JACOB.  (§  82,) 

the  man'iage  of  their  sister.  Hence  Jacob  awaits  the  return  (rf 
his  sons,  and  leaves  the  decision  to  them.  J.  D.  Michaelis,  in 
his  Notes  ad  h.  1.,  p.  152,  very  properly  reminds  us  of  an  opinion 
still  entertained  in  the  East,  as  applying  to  the  case  under  con- 
sideration. "  In  those  countries  it  is  thought  that  a  brother  is 
more  dishonom'ed  by  the  seduction  of  his  sister  than  a  man  by 
the  infideUty  of  his  wife :  for,  say  the  Arabs,  a  man  may  divorce 
his  wife,  and  then  she  is  no  longer  his  ;  while  sister  and  daughter 
remain  always  sister  and  daughter"  (comp.  Arvieux,  Remarkable 
Inform,  i.,  p.  130 ;  Niehuhr,  Descrip.,  p.  39.)  It  was  this  view 
which  also  led  to  the  murder  committed  by  Absalom  (2  Sam. 
xiii.  28.)  We  account  for  the  readiness  witli  which  the  men  of 
Shechem  submitted  to  the  rite  of  circumcision  by  supposing  that 
this  religious  symbol  had  at  the  time  been  generally  known  and  re- 
cognised among  the  heathen.  Of  course  it  is  understood,  without 
any  express  mention  to  that  effect,  that  the  two  brothers  Simeon 
and  Levi  had  attacked  the  city,  not  by  tliemselves  alone,  but  at 
the  head  of  a  number  of  their  servants.  Hence,  the  remark  of 
TucJi  (p.  476)  is,  to  say  the  least,  trifling.  "  Imi3erceptibly  the 
narrative  introduces  here  tlie  idea  of  a  tribe  as  connected  with 
Simeon  and  Levi,  as  the  sack  of  a  city  could  not  have  been 
accomplished  by  two  men."  Even  if  the  author  of  Genesis  had 
composed  or  elaborated  only  myths,  w^e  could  scarcely  imagine 
that  he  would  have  so  Avi-etchedly  forgotten  his  part.  In  order 
correctly  to  zmdersfand  and  to  Judge  this  deed  of  vengeance  it  is 
not  enough  to  measure  it  by  abstract  moral  principle ;  it  must 
be  regarded  in  its  relation  to  the  calling  of  Israel  and  of  his  sons. 
For  manifestly  the  vengeance  of  the  sons  is  not  merely  excited 
by  that  wrong  wliich  would  have  called  forth  the  indignation  of 
any  brother  whose  sister  had  been  dishonoured,  but  their  speeches 
and  conduct  clearly  show  that  they  were  conscious  that  a  pecuhar 
dishonour  had  been  brought  upon  Israel.  Besides  the  violation 
of  the  natural  right  of  hospitality,  they  felt  as  if  a  wrong  had 
been  connnitted  against  the  calling  and  the  peculiar  position  of 
their  race,  which,  in  theu"  opinion,  deserved  a  punishment  much 
more  sharp  and  relentless  than  any  ordinary  offence  (comp.  verses 
7,  14,  and  31.)  Regarding  themselves  and  their  family  as  the 
chosen  of  God,  as  distinguished  from  all  other  nations,  and  as 
the  representatives  of  the  promise,  even  the  proposal  of  the 
Hivites,  who  placed  themselves  on  the  same  level  with  them, 
would  offend,  while  the  wi'ong  committed  would  call  forth  every 
feeling  of  injured  pride.  Besides,  we  have  to  remember  the 
passionateness  of  their  natural  character,  the  thoughtlessness  of 
their  youth  (they  woidd  probably  be  between  nineteen  and  twenty- 
one),  which  is  the  age  when  man  first  becomes  self-conscious, 
and  when  his  impetuosity  is  most  violent,  and  lastly  the  help- 


JACOB  A  PILGRIM  IN  THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  82.)  H4l 

lessness  of  their  father,  "who  seemed  to  be  wholly  absorbed  by  grief, 
and  ready  humbly  to  bow  under  this  severe  discipline,  a  circum- 
stance which  in  their  passion  would  excite  them  the  more  to  take 
vengeance  into  their  own  hands.  It  should  not  be  forgotten  that 
a  generous  indignation,  and  a  praiseworthy  zeal  for  the  honour 
of  the  house  of  their  father  and  of  his  high  calling,  had  no  small 
share  in  their  resolution.  But  in  measure  as  this  zeal  was 
laudable  must  we  reprobate  the  wicked  stratagem  and  the 
abominable  cruelty  which  they  displayed  in  manifesting  it. 
Here  we  descry,  in  the  sons  of  Jacol),  the  same  unholy  mixture 
of  spirit  and  of  flesh,  as  formerly  in  their  father  Jacob — the  same 
ungodly  attempts  at  self- deliverance — the  same  lying  and  deceit 
by  which,  as  being  apparently  connected  with  the  interests  and 
purposes  of  the  Divine  calling,  God  himself  is  dishonoured  and 
as  it  were  drawn  into  partnership  with  human  perversity.  As, 
when  by  low  trickery  Jacob  had  gained  the  blessing  of  his  father, 
so  here  also  there  was  '^ periculum  in  mora,"  and  the  danger 
appeared  even  more  great  and  imminent.  How  were  they  to 
avoid  complying  with  the  requests  of  the  Hivites  to  become  one 
people  with  them,  since  the  first  decisive  step  to  it  had  already 
been  taken  ?  It  was  impossible  to  regain  Dinah  by  open  contest 
and  to  take  from  the  Hivite  prince  all  desire  after  a  connection 
with  the  house  of  Jacob.  Under  these  circumstances  they  have 
recourse  to  a  stratagem.  And,  as  Ibrmerly  the  deceit  of  Jacob, 
so  now  the  iniquity  of  his  sons,  is,  in  the  hand  of  Him  who 
directs  all  things  and  knows  to  subordinate  to  His  purposes  even 
the  sins  of  man,  made  the  means  for  cutting  the  knot  which 
human  perverseness  had  made.  As  the  cunning  of  Jacob  forms 
a  prototy|)e  of  the  future  national  character,  so  now  also  th(! 
carnal  pride  of  the  sons  in  their  pre-eminence  over  the  heathen 
indicates  one  of  the  main  characteristics  of  the  Jewish  people  at 
a  later  period.  In  this  respect  0.  v.  Gerlach  aptly  remarks  (ad 
h.  1.) :  "  A  history  like  tliis  brings  typically  before  us  all  the 
aberrations  caused  during  the  course  of  histor}^,  when  the  belief 
in  the  high  pre-eminence  of  Israel  was  in  a  carnal  manner 
cherished  by  carnally-minded  men.  The  feeling  that  they  Avere 
the  sons  of  Jacob,  the  chosen  race,  that  any  violation  of  their 
honour  must  be  mure  terribly  re\'enged  than  in  the  case  of  others, 
and  that  not  even  submission  to  the  rite  of  circmncision  could 
atone  for  it,  appears  to  have  mainly  influenced  the  conduct  of 
the  sons  of  Jacob."  Especially  does  it  manifest  itself  in  the  later 
history  of  the  tribe  of  Levi,  how  this  mixture  of  holy  and  of 
carnal  zeal  had  descended  from  tlic  ancestor  to  his  posterity,  and 
at  the  same  time  most  strikingly  does  it  appear  how  successfully 
the  training  of  God  tended  towards  converting  the  nntural 
character  of  this  tribe,  sanctitNinii-  the  fire  of  its  calling,  and 


342  JACOB.  (§  82,  83.) 

consuming  the  di-oss  by  discipline  and  punishment,  by  patience 
and  mercy  (comp.  Exod.  ii.  12,  xxxii.  26 — 28  ;  Levit.  x.  3 ; 
Numb.  xvi.  ;  Deut.  xxxiii.  9,  and  also  Helm's  Medit.  i.,  p.  430, 
&c.)  Nor  should  we  loose  sight  of  the  circumstance  that  the 
text  impartially  represents  the  contrast  between  the  natural 
amiability,  trustfulness,  and  friendliness  of  Hamor  and  Shechem 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  fanaticism,  the  cruelty,  and  the  deceit 
of  Simeon  and  Levi  on  the  other.  Thus,  the  sin  of  the  latter 
appears  only  the  greater,  while  the  Divine  mercy  and  wisdom 
also  becomes  more  manifest.  The  outward  amiability  of  those 
who  were  inwardly  destitute  and  empty  of  grace  could  not  impose 
on  Him,  nor  did  the  fearfid  perverseness  of  them  who  had  been 
inwardly  endowed  induce  Him,  in  the  development  of  salvation, 
to  turn  away  from  those  that  had  been  called  and  chosen.  The 
contrast  in  this  transaction  is  similar  to  that  formerly  observed 
between  lionest  Esau  and  cunning  Jacob. 

Lastly,  it  is  also  necessary  to  remember  that  it  was  doubt- 
less one  of  the  secondary  purposes,  in  the  narrative  of  tliis  trans- 
action, to  account  from  the  first  (comp.  Gen.  xxxv.  22)  for  the 
later  exclusion  of  the  brothers  Simeon  and  Levi  from  the  rights 
of  primogeniture  (Gren.  xlix.  5 — 7.) 

(3.)  The  circmnstance  that  Jacob  could  not,  even  to  the  day 
of  his  death,  get  rid  of  his  deep  abhorrence  of  the  fanatical 
cruelty  of  his  sons,  and  that,  in  his  prophetic  inspiration,  it 
breaks  forth  even  at  that  time  like  a  river  long  pent  up  (Gen. 
xlix.  5 — 7),  shows  how  deep  the  impression  must  have  been 
upon  his  mind.  Hengstenherg  very  properly  explains  (Contrib. 
iii.,  p.  535)  why  the  text  only  mentions  (verse  30)  that  Jacob 
had  reproached  his  sons  rather  for  the  supposed  dangerous  con- 
sequences of  their  deed  than  for  its  moral  deserts.  He  notices 
that  the  text  is  sj)ecially  intended  to  show  the  protection  of  God 
(chap,  xxxv.  5),  through  which  Jacob  escaped  the  evil  conse- 
quences of  their  conduct.  In  our  objective  view  of  the  transac- 
tion, it  must  be  remembered  that  this  misdeed  was  treason 
against  the  calling  of  the  chosen  race,  according  to  which  Israel 
was  to  be  the  medium  of  blessing  and  salvation  for  all  nations. 


§  83.  (Gen.  xxxv.) — While  Jacob  was  full  of  apprehension 
about  the  consequences  of  the  iniquity  committed  by  his  sons, 
and  in  his  helplessness  did  not  know  what  to  do,  God  admonished 
him  to  journey  towards  Bethlehem,  in  order  to  pay  his  vow  (1.) 
Having  first  purified  his  household,  the  patriarch  obeyed  this 
behest  (2.)  The  terror  of  God  was  upon  the  cities  round  about, 
and  under  1  his  protection  he  renched,  unharmed,  Bethel,  where, 


JACOB  A  PILGIUM  IN  THE  HOLY  LAND.    (§  83.)  343 

in  fulfilment  of  liis  vow,  lie  built  an  altar.  There  God  again 
appeared  to  him,  and  once  more  gave  him  the  name  Israel,  at 
the  same  time  renewing  the  threefold  promise  contained  in  the 
patriarchal  blessing  (§  71.)  In  the  place  where  God  had  ap- 
peared to  him,  Jacob  set  up  a  })illar  of  stone,  and  again  called 
the  name  of  it  Bethel.  Here  Deborah,  the  nurse  of  Rebekah, 
died  (3.)  But  a  more  heavy  loss  was  to  befall  him,  when  on 
the  journey  from  Bethel  to  Ephrath.  Rachel  died  in  giving 
birth  to  her  second  son,  whom  she  called  Benoni,  but  Jris  father 
Benjamin.  Jacob  erected  a  monument  in  the  place  where  the 
remains  of  his  beloved  wife  were  laid  to  rest.  Thence  Israel 
journeyed  towards  Migdal-Eder,  where  he  was  afflicted  by  the 
incest  of  Reuben,  his  first-born,  with  Bilhah.  Jacob  heard  it, 
and  was  silent  (5.)  From  there  the  patriarch  journeyed  to  his 
father  Isaac,  to  Mamre,  where  he  settled.  Soon  afterwards  his 
father  died,  and  Esau  came  to  bury  him  in  company  witli  his 
brother  (G.) 

(1.)  Jacob  was  now  in  circumstances  similar  to  those  under 
which,  thirty  years  before,  he  had  to  flee  from  the  vengeance  of 
his  brother  Esau.  As  then,  so  now,  he  had  to  escajje,  for  he 
could  only  have  remained,  in  the  face  of  the  dangers  threatening 
him,  if  they  had  not  been  occasioned  by  his  o^^^l  conduct.  But 
the  mercy  of  God  clianged  tlie  flight  from  Sychcm  into  a  pil- 
grimage to  Bethel.  In  itself  the  Divine  command  (to  go  to 
Bethel)  implied  a  Divine  assurance  in  tliis  danger ;  for  if  God 
calls  him  to  Bethel,  He  woidd  surely  bring  him  safely  thither. 
But  the  place  to  which  he  was  directed  to  go  conveyed  even 
more  fully  this  assurance,  for  in  Bethel  he  had  found  a  refuge 
with  God  at  the  time  of  his  first  trouble,  and  to  render  his  faith 
the  more  easy,  God  reminds  him  of  the  mercy  hitherto  shown 
him,  by  adding,  in  verse  1,  "when  thou  fleddest  from  the  face 
of  Esau  thy  bi-other."  In  Bethel  Jacob  is  to  pay  tlie  vow,  wliich, 
thirty  years  before,  he  had  made  in  the  same  place.  It  seems, 
indeed,  strange  that  tlie  patriarch  should  not  have  done  so  be- 
fore, since  the  conditions  of  the  vow  had  been  fulfilled  ten  years 
ago.  Although  some  external  and  internal  impediments  might 
have  stood  in  the  way,  we  can  scarcely  acquit  Jacob  from  guilty 
dilatoriness  in  this  matter.  From  verse  '2  we  gather  that  Jacob 
clearly  understood  that  before  making  the  \mmns(jd  jwsifive  de- 
dication in  Bethel,  it  was  necessary  that  it  should  be  preceded 
by  a  negative  dedication  in  Sychem,  in  the  way  of  instituting  an 
energetic  and  thorough  reformation   in  his  liouseliold.      i^nl    be 


344  JACOB.  (§83.) 

wanted  the  joyousness  and  strength  necessary  for  this,  till  it  was 
imparted  to  him  in  consequence  of  the  call  of  God.  The  patri- 
arch now  expressly  founds  the  demand  which  he  makes  upon  his 
household  to  purify  themselves,  by  appealing,  in  verse  3,  to  a 
Divine  command. 

(2.)  In  his  present  dangerous  position,  Jacob  and  all  his 
household  were  entirely  cast  upon  the  help  of  God.  It  was  then 
also  that  he  felt  how  necessary  it  was  wholly  to  dedicate  himself 
and  his  family  to  that  God  who  was  now  to  be  his  sole  stay,  and 
to  remove,  root  and  branch,  all  the  remainder  of  heathenism,  all 
that  v/as  left  of  the  idolatry  which,  secretly  carried  along  with 
them  from  Mesopotamia,  had  probably  been  increased  tlu'ough 
some  of  the  spoil  taken  at  Sychem  (chap,  xxxiv.  29.)  The 
purification  demanded,  consisted  in  the  giving  up  of  the  Tera- 
])him,  and  of  the  charms  which  Jacob  buried  under  an  oak  (a 
Terebinth),  which,  on  that  account,  ever  afterwards  bore  the 
name  of  "  the  oak  of  the  magicians"  (Judges  ix.  G  and  37.) 
The  washing  and  changing  of  garments  by  which  this  was  fol- 
lowed, negatively  and  positively,  indicated  a  separation  from  the 
past  and  a  dedication  to  something  new. 

(3.)  The  thikty  years  or  pilgrimage  which  intervened 
BETWEEN  THE  TWO  VISITS  OF  Jacob  TO  Bethel  Were  uow  ful- 
filled. ^16  first  stay  at  Bethel  stands  to  his  second,  as  it  were, 
in  the  relation  of  the  commencement  to  the  (relative)  end,  and 
of  prophecy  to  (relative)  fulfilment.  The  counsel  of  salvation, 
so  far  as  it  was  meant  to  manifest  itself  in  the  life  of  Jacob,  had 
now  reached  its  acme  ;  and  when  brought  into  connection  with 
the  departure  from  that  city,  the  return  to  Bethel  forms  a  har- 
monious close.  Then  the  Lord  had  appeared  to  liim  in  vision  ; 
now,  Jacob  beholds  him  in  a  state  of  ivakefuhiess  (verse  13: 
"  God  went  up  from  him.")  Even  this  implies  a  progress  from 
prediction  to  fulfilment,  as  the  dream  which  is  the  consequence 
of  Divine  influence,  constitutes  the  prophetic  type  of  waking- 
realisation.  Then,  God  had  promised  to  protect,  to  bless,  and 
to  bring  back  him,  who,  poor  and  forsaken,  had  to  flee  the  land ; 
now,  tills  prediction  is  richly  fulfilled — Jacob  has  returned  un- 
scathed to  the  Holy  Land,  the  rich  proprietor  of  large  flocks,  the 
lord  of  many  servants  and  maids.  Then,  Jacob  had  solemnly 
vowed  a  vow ;  now,  he  pays  it.  Then,  God  had  set  him  apart, 
that  salvation  might  be  developed  tln-ough  him,  and  invested 
him  Avith  the  threefold  blessing  of  the  covenant-promise.  So  far 
as  it  could  be  fulfilled,  this  promise  is  now  fidfiUed  in  Jacob,  for 
the  land  of  promise  is  open  to  him,  and  already  a  typical  com- 
mencement of  its  real  possession  (even  in  the  siglit  of  man)  has 
been  made.  The  seed  of  promise  has  appeared  in  the  fulness  of 
the  first  stage  of  its  development ;  for  Rachel  is  about  to  beai- 


JACOB  A  PILGRIM  IN  THE  HOLY   LAND.    (§  83.)  345 

that  son  in  whom  the  Bignilicant  number  of  twelve  is  to  be  per- 
fected, and  even  the  development  of  the  idea  of  salvation  has  at- 
tained its  preparatory  and  relative  fulfilment  since  Jacob  has 
become  Israel.  But  it  is  not  less  apparent  that  the  circumstances 
connected  witli  the  return  to  Bethel,  which,  when  compared  with 
the  departure  from  that  place,  are  a  fulfihnent  and  completion, 
are,  in  themselves,  not  an  absolute  but  only  a  relative  and  pre- 
paratory fulfilment,  and  hence  that  they  are  at  the  same  time 
only  the  prediction  of,  and  the  substratum  for,  a  yet  higher 
future  fulfilment.  For,  God  here  renews  the  former  blessing  of 
the  promise  in  its  threefold  reference  to  salvation  itself,  to  the 
land  as  the  place  of  salvation,  and  to  the  promised  seed  as  the 
medium  of  salvation.  Thus  it  clearly  appears,  that  the  pei'fect 
fiilfilment  was  as  yet  future,  and  that  the  present  was  only  j^re- 
paratory,  not  final.  God  also  bestows  again  upon  him  that  name 
which  indicates  his  pecuhar  relation  to  salvation  and  to  God,  and 
this  is  done  without  any  reference  to  the  circumstance,  that  he 
had  already  before  borne  that  name,  just  as  if  it  had  now  been 
bestowed  for  the  first  time.  From  this  we  infer  that  the  relation 
indicated  by  this  name  had  not  yet  attained  its  final  completion, 
and  that  Jacob,  who,  ten  years  before,  had  become  Israel,  was 
still  as  little  advanced  in  his  development  as  if  he  had  but  newly 
become  Israel.  The  renewal  of  this  name  showed  that  the  way  in 
which  Jacob  is  perfectly  to  become  Israel,  was  far-reaching,  and 
that,  like  the  promise  of  salvation  itself,  it  would  only  become 
reality  in  tlie  succeeding  generations  of  his  desendants.  Again, 
the  circumstance  that  this  repetition  of  the  name  now  forms  the 
basis  of  a  renewal  of  the  threefold  promise,  proves  that  the  per- 
fect fulfilment  of  this  promise  is  co-relative,  and  dependent  on 
the  perfect  exlubition  of  that  which  the  name  Israel  indicates. 
Further,  as  God  renews  the  name  of  Israel,  which  indicates  the 
relation  of  Jacob  to  God,  so  Jacob  renews  that  of  Bethel,  which 
expresses  the  relation  of  God  to  him,  the  dwelling  of  God  in  and 
among  the  seed  of  Jacob.  The  reneivtd  of  this  name  also  ex- 
presses the  consciousness  that  God  is  yet  to  become  in  much 
higher  degree  an  El-Bethel. 

In  Bethel,  Deborah,  the  nurse  of  Rebekah,  died,  and  was 
buried  under  an  oak  which  obtained  the  name  of  '"  oak  of  mourn- 
ing." She  had  accompanied  Rebekah  from  Mesopotamia  to 
Canaan  (Gen.  xxiv.  5*J),  and  had  (after  the  death  of  her  unstress 
])robably),  taken  up  her  abode  with  Rebekah's  favourite  sou. 
Her  decease  is  mentioned  in  order  to  shew  in  what  high  esteem 
this  aged  servant  was  held  in  the  house  of  Jacol).  The  oak 
which  indicated  her  grave  preserved  her  memory  to  succeeding 
generations  (comp.  Judges  ii.  1  ;  iv.  5  ;  probably  also  1  ^^nm.  x. 
3.     Comp.  also  LengerJce  i.,  }>.  322.) 


346  JACOB.  (§  83.) 

It  has  been  thought  strange  that  Jacob  should  so  soon  have 
left  Bethel,  when  the  divine  command  (as  recorded  in  verse  1) 
had  been  :  "  arise,  go  up  to  Bethel  and  dwell  tlure."  But  the 
connection  distinctly  shews  that,  by  these  terms,  it  had  not  been 
meant  to  convey  that  Jacob  should  continue  to  dwell  there.  The 
"  dwell  there"  serves  only  as  basis  for  the  direction,  "  make  an 
altar  there." 

(4.)  Kachel  died  (verse  16)  after  Jacob  had  left  Bethel,  and 
was  "  a  little  way  fronn  Eplirath"  ("  a  little  piece  of  ground," 
com.  Gesenius  Thes.,  p.  658),  and  she  was  buried  "  in  the  way 
to  Ephrath,  loliich  is  Bethlehem"  At  the  time  of  Samuel,  the 
pillar,  which  Jacob  had  erected  to  her  memory,  still  existed, 
1  Sam.  X.  2.  From  that  period  to  the  fourth  century  we  have 
no  express  or  independent  mention  of  it.  But  since  then,  the 
place  of  her  burial,  as  fixed  by  an  unbroken  tradition,  has  been 
pointed  out  in  a  spot  half  an  hour  to  the  north  of  Bethlehem, 
which  at  present  is  covered  by  a  Turkish  chapel,  called  Kubbet 
Rachil.  Till  lately  this  has  not  been  called  in  question.  Even 
Bobijison,  who  cominouly  is  not  ready  to  believe  monkish  tradi- 
tions, does  not  suggest  (vol.  i.,  pp.  218  and  219)  any  doubt, 
"  since  it  is  fully  supported  by  the  circumstances  of  the  Scrip- 
ture narrative."  But  latterly  some  opponents  of  this  tradition 
(Thenius  in  KaufiPer's  Bibl.  Studies  ii.,  p.  143,  &c.,  and  Gross  in 
Tholuck's  Lit.  Anz.  for  1846,  No.  54  ;  comp.  also  Lengerke  i., 
p.  324,  note)  have  brought  forward  irrefragable  arguments 
against  this  tradition.  First  of  all,  it  cannot  be  reconciled  with 
1  Sam.  X.  2,  which  places  the  grave  of  Rachel  between  the 
cities  of  Raniah  and  dibeah,  on  the  borders  of  the  possession  of 
Benjamin  ;  for,  according  to  tliis  passage,  it  must  have  lain  to  the 
north  and  not  to  the  south  of  Jerusalem.  Thenius  regards  the 
addition  of  the  words,  "  which  is  Bethlehem,"  after  Ephrath,  in 
Gren.  XXXV.  19,  and  similarly  in  Gen.  xlviii.  7,  indeed  all  these 
geographical  explanations,  as  so  many  later  glossaries  and 
attempts  to  shew  that  the  situation  and  name  of  the  Ephrath  of 
Genesis  agrees  with  the  Ephraim  of  2  Sam.  xiii.  23,  or  the 
Eplii-on  of  2  Chron.  xiii.  1 9 — the  j)resent  Yebrud,  which  lies  / 
about  two  German  miles  to  the  south  of  Sinjil  (according  to 
Thenius  =  Bethel.)  Gross,  on  the  other  hand,  maintains  the 
correctness  of  the  statement  in  Genesis  xxxv.  19  and  xlvii,  7, 
that  Ephrath  is  =  Bethlehem.  Still  he  finds  the  grave  of 
Rachel  not  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Betldehem,  which 
is  at  any  rate  contradicted  by  1  Sam.  x.  2,  but  in  the  neigh- 
l)ourhood  of  Ramah  (er-Ram,  situate  a  German  mile  to  the  north 
of  Jerusalem),  as  indicated  by  Jeremiah  xxxi.  15.  We  agree 
with  the  conclusion  of  G^-oss,  inasmuch  as  the  indefinite  state- 
ment in  Genesis,  that  her  grave  was  "  a  piece  of  ground  "  (longi- 


COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  HISTOUY  OF  JOSEPH.    (§  83,  84.)  347 

tuclo  terray)  distant  from  Eplu-ath  (=  Bethlelicm) ,  implies 
rather  a  longer  than  a  shorter  distance  ;  and  the  reason  why  the 
more  distant  Betlilehcm  was  mentioned  may  have  been  that  the 
Migdal  Eder,  near  Bethlehem,  was  the  next  station  where  Jacob 
sojourned  for  a  length  of  time.  Besides,  Jeremiah  xxxi.  15 
certainly  implies  that  it  had  been  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood of  Ramah.  Against  the  view  of  Thenius  we  may  urge 
that  Yebrud  is  too  close  bye  Sinjil  (=  Bethel),  and  that  the 
statement  in  Gen.  xxxv.  19  is  too  readily  set  aside  as  a  mere 
glossary.  We  are  willing  to  admit  that  these  words,  as  uttered 
by  Jacob  in  Genesis  xlviii.  7,  appear  to  be  wholly  out  of  place, 
and  hence  merely  a  glossary  ;  but  this  remark  does  not  apply  to 
Genesis  xxxv.  19,  whence  a  later  copyist  may  readily  have  trans- 
ferred them  to  Genesis  xlviii.  7.  Besides,  Micah  v.  1  prove  the 
identity  of  Ephra  or  Ephrath  with  Bethlehem. 

(5.)  The  incest  of  Reuhen  is  mentioned  in  order  to  account 
for  his  exclusion  from  the  privileges  of  primogeniture.  Tliis 
sin  was  committed  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bethlehem,  at 
Migdal  Eder,  "  a  tower  of  the  flock,"  probably  originally  a 
tower  whence  the  flocks  were  watched.  Comp.  Micah  iv.  8  and 
Hengstenhergs  Christol.  iii.,  p.  270,  &c. 

(6.)  The  death  of  Isaac  is  here  narrated  "  per  prolepsin,"  for 
Jacob  was  120  years  old  when  Isaac  died  at  the  age  of  180. 
But  in  the  following  section  it  is  related  that  Jacob  was  only 
108  years  old  when,  at  the  age  of  17,  Joseph  was  sold  into 
Egj'pt.  The  death  of  Isaac  took  place  ten  years  before  Israel 
and  his  sons  went  into  Egypt  (Gen.  xlvii.  9.)  Comp.  Tuch 
Comm.,  p.  495,  &c. 


COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  JOSEPH, 

§  84.  (Gen.  xxxvii.  1 — 11.) — Joseph,  the  first-born  son  of  the 
beloved  Rachel,  was  the  favourite  of  his  father.  The  depth  of 
his  soul,  the  contemplativeness  of  his  character,  and  his  general 
amiability,  increased  the  affection  of  aged  Jacob  the  more,  that 
the  passionate  roughness  and  perversity  of  his  other  sons  caused 
him  only  grief.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  he  had  intended 
to  transfer  to  Joseph  the  rights  of  primogeniture,  as  no  doubt 
he  had  already  resolved  to  punish  the  tlnree  eldest  sons  of  Leah 
for  their  iniquities  by  depriving  them  of  its  privileges.  Already 
was  he  distinguished  from  his  brethren  by  a  peculiar  dress. 
Their  hatred  and  envy,  excited  by  this,  only  incireased  when  the 
lad,  who  grew  up  among  them  as  a  shepherd  boy,  kept  his  father 


348  JACOB.   (§  84.) 

informed  of  their  many  evil  deeds  of  which  he  was  an  eye- 
witness. This  resentment  reached  its  climax  when  in  childish 
thoughtlessness,  perhaps  not  without  some  addition  of  self- 
exaltation,  Joseph  related  to  his  brothers  those  strange  dreams, 
which  only  too  clearly  declared  his  future  elevation  above  them 
and  above  the  whole  house  of  their  father.  Even  Jacob  himself 
was  induced  to  reprove  him  ;  still  he  revolved  these  di'eams  in 
his  heart. 

(1.)  The  idea  of  transferring  to  Joseph  the  rights  of  j)rimo- 
geniture,  and  of  thus  making  him  chief  of  the  family,  and  the 
centre  for  the  development  of  salvation,  might  occur  the  more 
readily  to  Jacob,  since  Joseph  was  really  the  first-born  of  his 
chosen  wife,  and  he  was  on  other  grounds  so  much  preferable  to 
any  of  the  sons  of  Leah.  Probably  the  distinguishing  dress 
(D'^DB  niinS'  LXX  :  ^^trcby  7roi/ctX,o9,  Vulg.  tunica  polymita, 
but  more  correctly  Gesenius :  tunica  manicata  et  talaris,  per- 
tinens  ad  □ijrjg,  i.e.,  usque  ad  manus  plantasque  pedum — genus 

tunicae   a   pueris   puellisque   nobilioribus   et   regiis   gestatum, 
2  Sam.  xiii.  18)  was  meant  to  express  this  intention. 

The  two  DREAMS  are  based  on  the  rustic  and  pastoral  life 
of  the  patriarchal  family.  The  first  (in  which  the  sheaves  of  his 
brothers  make  obeisance  to  that  of  Joseph)  implies  that  Jacob, 
who  had  now  chosen  Hebron  (where  he  lived  for  about  twenty 
years)  for  his  place  of  residence,  had,  besides  rearing  cattle,  tilled 
the  ground  also,  following  in  this  the  example  of  Isaac.  The 
second  dream  (in  which  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  eleven  stars 
make  obeisance  to  Joseph)  is  entirely  based  on  the  nomadic 
circumstances  of  the  family.  In  the  absence  of  other  reliable 
means  of  judging,  the  result  alone  could  show  whether  these 
dreams  had  been  sent  by  God  or  not.  Possibly,  they  might 
have  been  the  effect  of  vanity  and  self-exaltation  on  the  part  of 
a  boy  whose  mind  was  excited  by  tokens  of  external  distinction. 
Hence  Jacob  may  have  deemed  it  his  duty  to  reprove  him,  espe- 
cially as  the  second  dream  conveyed  tlie  idea  of  exaltation  over 
his  father  and  mother  also,  and  thus  implied  so  much  that  was 
strange  and  apijarently  contrary  to  the  ways  of  God,  that,  despite 
his  likings  and  his  hopes,  Jacob  could  not  see  liis  way  in  it. 
Following  Tuch,  Leiigerke  suggests  i.,  p.  332  :  "  that  the  passage 
in  question  is  another  chronological  inconsistency  on  the  part  of 
the  writer,  since,  as  v.  10  implies,  the  dream  is  supposed  to  have 
taken  place  during  Kachel's  lifetime."  We  admit  that  the  sug- 
gestion of  some  interpreters  who  suppose  that  the  term  "  mother" 
referred  to  Leah,  or  to  Bilhah  (as  the  substitute  of  Rachel)  is 


COMMENCEMENT  OK  THE  HISTORY  OF  JOSEPH.    (§  84.)        349 

erroueons.  But  tbeii  it  is  well  kiK^vvu  that  such  chronological 
inconsistencies  frequently  occur  in  dreams.  To  make  the  symbol 
complete,  it  was  necessary  not  only  to  speak  of  the  sun,  but  of 
the  moon ;  and  this  very  reference  to  the  departed  mother  must 
have  increased  Jacob's  doubts  about  the  second  dream.  Nor 
did  the  symbol  refer  to  Rachel  as  an  individual,  but  rather  as 
the  representati^'e  of  an  idea,  and  if  the  prophet  could  call  lier 
up  from  her  grave,  to  weep  on  the  heights  of  Ptamah,  about  the 
calamities  of  her  children  (Jeremiah  xxxi.  15),  she  may  in  this 
prophetic  dream  have  in  the  same  manner  been  represented  as 
with  her  husband  making  obeisance  to  Joseph,  who  appears 
exalted  to  the  highest  dignity.  In  point  of  fact,  we  here  descry 
for  the  first  time  a  prophetic  anticipation  that  the  salvation 
which  was  to  issue  from  this  family,  should  be  such,  that  its 
members,  and  even  its  ancestors,  should  bend  before  it  and 
worship. 

In  reference  to  the  character  of  Joseph,  even  this  capacity 
for  prophetic  dreams,  discloses  an  internal  depth,  which  renders 
liim  conversant  with  tlie  mysteries  of  the  life  of  the  soul,  and 
a  heart  and  mind  open  to  the  influences  of  higher  spiritual  reali- 
ties. Again,  the  artlessness  and  openness  with  which  he  relates 
his  dreams,  shews  childlike  simplicity,  and  the  zeal  with  which 
he  carries  to  his  father  any  evil  report  that  had  been  raised  against 
his  brothers,  proves  his  consciousness  of,  and  the  deep  interest  he 
felt  in,  the  honour  of  his  house.  His  relation  towards  his  father 
also  gives  e^ddence  of  an  affectionate,  confiding,  and  kindly 
natm-e.  If  we  feel  that  at  the  time  Joseph  was  the  fairest  and 
the  purest  flower  in  the  household  of  Jacob,  and  that  even  at  an 
early  period  his  high  destination  manifested  itself  by  way  of 
anticipation,  we  are  also  fully  alive  to  the  dangers  to  which  such 
a  character,  during  its  development,  and  in  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances in  which  he  was  placed,  was  naturally  exposed.  How 
easily  miglit  the  well-grounded  preference  of  his  father  exercise 
an  injurious  influence  on  the  formation  of  his  character  !  How 
readily  might  his  confiding  kindliness  assume  the  appearance  of 
hateful  flattery,  or  his  zeal  for  the  honour  of  his  family  change 
into  a  self-righteous  love  of  accusation,  or  his  child-like  openness 
and  simplicity  be  coupled  with  vain  self-confidence  and  pride  !  If, 
on  the  one  hand,  we  keep  in  mind  how  soon  sin  and  selfishness,  like 
a  destropng  canker,  attack  even  what  is  noblest,  and  if,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  carefully  weigh  the  hints  thrown  out  in  the  text, 
we  shall  acknowledge  that,  in  the  present  instance,  these  dangers 
were  not  merely  possible  at  a  future  period,  but  that  they  had 
already  in  part  become  realities,  and  the  bright  glass  of  his 
chilchsh  soul  already  become  dim  by  such  spots.  This  is  indi- 
cated by  the  serious  reproof  which  Jacob  himself  administered 


350  JACOB.   (§  85.) 

(verse  10)  and  by  the  remark  of  verse  8,  that  his  brothers  hated 
him,  for  his  dreams  and  for  Ms  wot^ds,  an  expression  which 
seems  to  imply  that  it  was  not  only  the  dream  itself,  but  the 
manner  in  which  Joseph  related  it,  that  had  deepened  the  hatred 
of  his  brothers.  From  all  this  we  shall  gather  how  necessary  it 
was  that  Joseph  should  be  removed  from  these  circumstances 
and  trained  in  a  school  where  only  the  germ  of  what  was  really 
gi-eat  and  noble  could  grow,  and  where  all  weeds  would  be 
destroyed — we  mean  the  school  of  suffei^ings  and  of  affliction. 

§  85.  (Gen.  xxxvii.  12,  &c.) — At  last  an  occasion  offered  to 
the  brothers  of  Joseph  to  give  full  vent  and  satisfaction  to  their 
ill-concealed  hatred  of  him.  While  they  tended  the  cattle 
near  Sychem,  at  a  distance  from  Hebron,  Jacob  sent  liim  to  en- 
quire about  the  welfare  of  his  brothers  and  about  the  state  of  the 
flocks.  Joseph  finds  that  they  have  left  Sychem  and  are  gone  to 
Doihan  (1.)  Whenever  his  brothers  descry  him  in  the  distance 
their  anger  is  violently  roused.  Already  they  consult  to  kill  him, 
in  order  to  render  the  fulfilment  of  his  dreams  thoroughly  impos- 
sible ;  but  B.euben  opposes  this  measure.  Not  to  imbrue  their 
hands  in  the  blood  of  their  brother,  they  follow  Reuben's  advice, 
and  cast  him  into  an  empty  cistern,  with  the  intention  of  letting 
him  die  by  hunger.  After  that  they  sit  down  to  eat  and  to 
diink  (2.)  But  lo  !  a  caravan  oi  Arabian  merchants  passes  bye 
that  way  into  Egypt.  The  proposal  of  Judah  to  sell  the  lad  into 
slavery,  meets  with  universal  acceptance.  They  di'aw  him  out 
of  the  pit  and  dispose  of  him  for  the  miserable  sum  of  twenty 
shekel.  Thus  the  youth  departs  with  his  owners  to  Egypt — 
only  a  distant  view  of  the  heights  of  Hebron  where  his  father, 
suspecting  no  evil,  awaits  the  return  of  his  favourite,  is  granted 
him  on  his  journey  to  the  land  of  his  bondage.  (3.)  Reuben  had 
only  given  the  advice  to  his  brothers  in  order  to  rescue  the 
lad  from  their  bloody  revenge ;  he  had  not  been  present  when 
Joseph  was  sold.  In  deep  grief  he  rends  his  garments  when, 
on  his  return,  he  finds  him  no  longer  in  the  cistern.  But  the 
other  brothers  dip  Joseph's  coat  in  the  blood  of  a  kid,  and 
send  it  to  Jacob,  who  weeps  over  the  supposed  death  of  his  son 
and  refuses  to  be  comforted. 

(1.)  The  circumstance  that  whUe  Jacob  lives  in  Hebron  (verse 


COMMENCEMENT  UF  THE  HISTORY  OF  JOSEPH.  (§  85.)   851 

14)  he  sends  a  portion  of  his  tiocks  to  pasture  in  the  neiglihour- 
hood  of  Sycliem,  is  accounted  for  on  the  supposition  that  he  had 
purchased  a  part  of  that  district.  Nor  can  it  appear  strange 
that  he  shouhl  send  a  hxd  of  seventeen  years  alone  from  Hebron 
to  Sycliem,  a  distance  of  about  twelve  German  miles,  when  we 
remember  that  Joseph  had  been  brought  up  there,  and  hence 
knew  the  country,  that  he  was  accustomed  to  a  nomadic  life, 
and  would  feel  no  apprehension  in  undertaking  the  journey. 
Perhaps  the  circumstance  may  also  shew  that  now  at  least  Jacob 
no  longer  spoiled  his  favourite.  It  is  impossible  accurately  to 
determine  the  exact  situation  of  Dothan  or  Dothain  =  double 
cistern.  The  fact  that  a  caravan  passed  that  way  (verse  25),  and 
the  statement  in  Judith  iii.  9  (JiXOe  Kara  Trpoacoirov  'Eahprfkav 
nrXTjcTiov  r>]<;  Acoraia^)  shew  that  it  must  have  lain  where  the 
mountain  of  Ephraim  slopes  into  the  plain  of  Jezreel.  With 
this  also  agree  the  statements  of  Eusehius  and  Hieronymus, 
who  place  it  twelve  Roman  miles  to  the  north  of  Samaria 
(Sebaste.) 

(2.)  The  description  which  Diodorus  Sic.  xix.  94  gives  of  the 
CISTERNS  common  among  the  Nabathean  Arabs  may  probably, 
in  its  general  features,  also  apply  to  those  in  Palestine.  He  says : 
"  Tliis  district,  although  destitute  of  water,  forms  a  secure  retreat 
for  them,  as  they  have  made  in  the  earth  regularly  built  and 
plastered  cisterns.  For  this  purpose  they  dig  deep  caverns  in 
the  ground,  which  consists  either  of  mould  or  of  soft  stones,  and 
make  them  very  narrow  at  the  mouth  increasing  in  breadth  as 
they  descend,  till  at  the  bottom  they  attain  a  width  of  one  huncked 
feet  at  each  side.  These  reservoirs  are  filled  with  rain  water  ;  then 
the  mouth  is  closed,  so  that  they  appear  equally  level  with  the  rest 
of  the  soil.  But  they  leave  some  mark  which  they  alone  know, 
and  which  is  not  observed  by  others."  Thus  cisterns  when  empty, 
or  only  covered  with  mud  at  the  bottom,  might  also  serve  as  tem- 
porary prisons,  Jeremiah  xxxviii.  6,  xl.  15.  Rohlnson  found  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Safed  the  ruined  Khan  Jubb-Yusuf^^ — the 
Khan  of  Joseph's  pit  (ii.  p.  418  and  419. ')  Considering  what 
we  have  already  said  of  the  position  of  Dothan,  it  is  evident  that 
this  tradition  is  erroneous. 

(3.)  Accorchng  to  chap,  xxxvii.  25  and  27,  and  chap,  xxxix. 
1,  the  CARAVAN  wliich  brought  Joseph  to  Eg}^it  consisted  of 
Ishmaelites  ;  while  in  chap,  xxxvii.  28,  they  are  called  Midianites, 
and  in  verse  3G  Medanites.  In  the  same  manner  the^  and  kin- 
dred names  are  confounded  and  promiscuously  used  in  Judges 
vi.  1,  &c.,  compared  with  chap.  viii.  21,  24,  26.     (Comp.  espe- 

1  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark  that  Robinson  docs  not  identify  this 
Khan  with  the  pit  of  Joseph. — The  Tr. 


352  JACOB.  (§  85.) 

cially  Drechsler's  Unity  of  Genesis,  p.  251,  &c.)  These  three 
races  were  all  descendants  of  Abraham,  the  former  by  Hagar, 
the  latter  two  by  Ketm-ah.  "  All  these  wild  branches  of  the 
race  to  which  the  promise  belonged,  spread  along  the  extensive 
plains  of  the  East  (Gen.  xvi.  12,  xxv,  6)  and  were  by  and  bye 
comprised  imder  the  vague  name  of  '  sons  of  the  East,'  having 
the  same  origin,  liAnng  in  similar  relations  and  cu'cmiistances, 
and  thus  engaged  in  the  same  occupation,  and  that  occupation 
unfavourable  to  settling  in  any  one  place.  These  continual 
changes  and  migrations  only  increased  the  common  national 
character  of  all  these  races,  which  had  a  certain  amount  of 
wildness  and  restlessness,  of  scattering  and  commingling  about 
it.  Under  such  circumstances  we  are  not  surprised  to  find  that 
they  were  not  accurately  distinguished  and  separated,  but  that 
individual  tribes  and  names  merged  into  each  other/'  Lengerke 
(i.  p.  333)  supposes  that  if  Ishmael  hadbeen  really  the  son  of  Abra- 
ham, the  Islmiaelites  could  not  at  that  time  have  akeady  been  a 
trading  nation.  But  one  hundred  and  forty-five  years  had 
passed  since  the  birth  of  Islmiael,  during  which  tune  they  may 
have  greatly  increased  and  spread,  especially  if  we  suppose,  what 
is  supported  by  other  grouncls,  that  they  had  received  into  their 
race  the  original  inhabitants  of  the  district  which  they  occupied. 
But  even  these  suppositions  are  not  necessary ;  the  facts  of  the 
case  are  simply  as  represented  by  Hdvernick,  Introd.  i.  2,  p.  381. 
The  author  uses  the  names  of  the  most  commercial  people  of  his 
time,  in  order  generally  to  mdicate  "  Arabian  merchants."  The 
very  confusion  among  the  names  sufficiently  shews  that  he  did 
not  care,  with  diplomatic  accuracy,  to  distinguish  the  origin  of 
these  races.  As  Joseph  had  not  yet  reached  the  age  of  manhood, 
the  merchants  did  not  pay  for  him  thirty  shekel,  the  common 
price  of  a  slave,  but  twenty,  which  is  exactly  the  sum  men- 
tioned in  Lev.  xx\ai.  5  for  a  lad  betu^een  five  and  twenty  years. 
The  caravan  took  the  common  road  which  led  from  the  spice- 
district  of  Gilead  to  Egypt.  It  crossed  the  Jordan  below  the 
sea  of  Galilee,  passed  over  the  plain  of  Jezreel,  and  thence  con- 
tinued along  the  sea  shore  to  Egypt. 

(4.)  In  this  transaction  the  harshness  and  cruelty  of  the 
BROTHERS  OF  JosEPH  appeared  in  its  full  extent.  Among  them, 
however,  Reuben  and  Judah  occupy  a  difierent  position,  as  being 
unwilHng  to  consent  to  the  murderous  intention  of  the  others. 
Nor  should  we  forget  that  although  these  two  brothers  were 
equally  injured  with  Simeon  and  Levi,  by  the  seduction  of  Dinah, 
they  did  not  join  them  in  the  slaughter  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Shechem.  These  circumstances  seem  to  indicate  that  they  were 
less  rough  and  cruel.  Beubcn  intends  to  deliver  Joseph  from 
the  vengeance  of  his  brothers,  and  secretly  to  send  him  back 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  JUDAH.    (§  85,  8G.)  353 

to  his  father.  But  we  are  not  warranted  in  assuming,  with 
Baumgarten,  p.  309  (who  in  this  respect  follows  Luther),  that 
Reuben  had  been  humbled  by  his  fall  (the  incest  with  Bilhah), 
and  therefore  was  less  hard-hearted  than  the  rest.  The  circum- 
stance is  sufficiently  accounted  for  by  natural  Idndliness  which 
might  have  existed  alongside  with  that  sin,  and  by  this,  that,  as 
the  first  born,  Reuben  would  feel  himself  more  particularly  re- 
sponsible to  his  father.  Judah  also  wished  to  preser\'e  the  life 
of  Joseph,  but  he  agrees  with  his  other  brothers  in  deeming  it 
necessary  that  he  should  be  removed,  so  that  thereby  the  possi- 
bility of  having  his  dreams  realised  should  be  set  aside.  As 
they  probably  thought  that  the  realisation  of  these  dreams  was 
dependent  on  his  investiture  mth  the  rights  of  primogeniture,  it 
aj)peared  the  most  sure  means  of  attaining  their  object  to  sell  him 
as  a  slave  into  a  distant  country. 

Thus,  we  conclude  with  Banl'e  (Invest,  i.,  p.  262)  :  "  The  nar- 
rative has  now  reached  the  point,  when  it  seems  as  if  the  direct 
contrary  of  Joseph's  former  prophetic  dreams  should  take  place. 
He  whose  superiority  his  parents  and  brothers  were  to  acknow- 
ledge, now  lives  as  a  slave  in  a  foreign  land.  This  dissonance 
was  to  continue  unresolved,  even  as  the  bui'den  of  grief  was  for 
many  years  to  weigh  upon  his  old  father  without  being  removed. 
Joseph  no  longer  exists  for  the  house  of  his  father.  Later  inci- 
dents are  now  most  aptly  inserted  into  the  narrative." 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  JUDAH  S  FAMILY. 

§  86.  (Gen.  xxxviii.) — About  this  time,  Judah  separated  from 
his  brethren,  and  lived  in  Adtdlam,  where  he  entered  into 
friendly  relations  with  a  man  of  the  name  of  Hirah,  and  married 
Shuah,  a  Canaanite  (1.)  His  Avife  bore  him  tlu'ee  sons,  Ur, 
Onan,  and  Shelah.  When  Er,  his  fixst-born,  had  grovna  up,  he 
gave  liim  Tamar,  a  Canaanite,  to  wife.  But  Er  was  wicked  in 
the  sight  of  Jehovah,  and  He  slew  him.  As  Er  had  died  with- 
out children,  Judah,  according  to  ancient  custom,  obliged  his 
second  son  to  marry  his  brother's  widow.  But  Onan,  who  was 
anxious  to  secure  the  rights  of  primogeniture  for  himself,  and 
for  a  son  of  his  own  name,  frustrated  the  object  in  view  by  an 
unnatural  abomination  (2),  wherefore  Jehovah  slew  him  also. 
Judah,  who  probably  ascribed  these  deaths  to  hostile  magic  in- 
fluence on  the  part  of  Tamar,  wished  to  preserve  his  third  son 
from  the  same  danger,  and  hence,  on  certain  pretences,  delayed 
TOL.  1.  z 


354  JACOB.  (§  86.) 

the  marriage  with  Shelah.  But  Tamar,  to  whom  coimection 
with  the  house  of  Jacob  seemed  of  too  gi'eat  importance  to  re- 
nounce it,  seeks  to  right  herself  in  her  own  way.  The  son  being 
refused  to  her,  she  knew  to  gain  the  father  (3.)  Meantime, 
Judah's  wife  had  died.  The  days  of  mourning  being  passed, 
Judah  went  up  unto  his  sheep-shearing,  to  Timnath.  Hearing 
of  this  Tamar  sits  down,  dressed  as  an  harlot,  at  the  gate  of 
Enajim,  by  the  way  which  Judah  has  to  pass.  Her  device  is 
successfid.  Judah,  in  payment,  promises  her  a  kid  from  the 
flock,  and  as  a  pledge  leaves  with  her  his  bracelets  and  liis  staff 
(4.)  Hirah,  whom  Judah  sends  to  redeem  these  pledges,  of 
course  returns  unsuccessful,  as  nobody  in  the  place  knew  any- 
thing about  such  a  harlot.  But  three  months  afterwards  Judah 
is  informed  that  Tamar  is  with  child.  Being  the  bride  of  his 
third  son,  she  incurs  the  charge  of  adultery,  and  Judah,  pro- 
bably too  glad  to  find  an  opportunity  of  getting  rid  of  her,  as 
head  of  the  family,  and  in  the  exercise  of  strictest  law,  adjudges 
her  to  he  burned.  But  Tamar  sent  him  the  pledges  he  had 
given  her,  and  with  them  the  message :  "  By  the  man  whose 
these  are  am  I  with  child."  Judah  then  acknowledged  his  double 
wrong.  He  said :  "  She  hath  been  more  righteous  than  I ;"  but 
he  knew  her  again  no  more  (5.)  Under  circumstances  which 
made  the  birth  very  difficult,  she  bore  twin  childi'en,  Pharez  and 
Zarah  (6.) 

(1.)  The  indication  of  the  time  when  this  event  took  place — 
"  and  it  came  to  pass  at  that  time" — does  not  render  it  necessary 
to  suppose  that  the  marriage  of  Judah  succeeded  the  sale  of 
Joseph.  Hence  Drechsler  (1.  c. ,  p.  258)  assumes  that  verses  1 
to  11  of  this  chapter  took  place  before  the  removal  of  Joseph  ; 
and  Bawmgarten  (i.  1,  p.  316)  calculates  that  "  Judah  separated 
from  his  brethren  in  the  thirteenth  year  of  his  age,  three  years 
after  the  return  of  Jacob,  and  when  he  Hved  in  Sychem,  five 
years  before  the  seduction  of  Dinah,  and  eight  years  before  the 
selling  of  Joseph"  (?)  Notwithstanding  the  conclusive  argu- 
mentation of  Hengste7iberg  (Contrib.  iii.,  p.  354,  &c.),  who 
shows  that  the  two  sons  of  Pharez,  Hezron  and  Hamul  (in  chap, 
xlvi.  12),  had  only  been  born  in  Egypt  (comp,  our  remarks  in  § 
92),  Baumgarten  supposes  that  they  were  born  in  Canaan,  and 
is  therefore  constrained  to  place  chap,  xxxviii.  1  and  2  so  many 
years  before  Joseph  was  sold  into  EgyjDt,  and  to  assume  a  num- 
ber of  other  glaring  improbabilities,  in  order  to  comprise  three 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  JUDAH.     (§  8().)  355 

generations  within  the  space  of  thirty  years.  Accordingly  Jiidali 
must  marry  when  thirteen  years  old,  and  at  the  age  of  sixteen 
he  has  two  sons.  Er  must  also  have  married  when  thirteen  years 
old,  and  when  his  father  was  only  twenty-seven,  and  Onan,  only 
after  the  lapse  of  another  year,  when  he  had  attained  the  same 
age  as  his  brother.  Again,  Judah  must  have  begotten  Pharez 
and  Zarah  when  he  was  twenty-nine  years  old,  in  order  that 
Pharez,  when  in  his  thirteenth  year,  or  when  Judah  had  reached 
the  age  of  forty-three  years — which  is  the  period  when  the  family 
passed  into  Egypt — may  have  had  Hezron  and  Hamid,  who  are 
supposed  to  have  been  twins.  (?)  But  we  maintain  that  Hezron 
and  Hamul  were  born  in  Egypt,  and  that  the  marriage  of  Judah 
had  only  taken  place  after  Joseph  had  been  sold  into  Egypt. 
The  former  we  shall  prove  in  §  92,  2 ;  the  latter  appears,  not  so 
much  from  the  chronological  indications  in  verse  1,  as  from  the 
context  generally.  In  itself,  it  is  higlily  improbable  that  at  the 
early  age  of  thirteen,  Judah  shoidd  have  left  his  father  and  his 
brothers,  have  conunenced  a  household  of  his  own  and  married, 
the  more  so  when  we  remember  that  in  chap,  xxxvii.  Joseph, 
who  at  that  time  was  seventeen  years  old,  is  described  as  a  mere 
lad.  But  the  supposition  of  Baumgarten  is  entirely  refuted  by 
the  circumstance,  that  Judah  could  not  at  one  and  the  same  time 
have,  according  to  chap,  xxxvii.,  lived  in  fellowship  with  his 
brothers  and  in  his  father's  house,  and  yet,  according  to  chap, 
xxxviii.,  separated  from  them,  and  kept  house  on  liis  o\n\  account. 
For,  according  to  chap,  xxxviii.,  tliis  separation  and  independence 
continued  uninterrupted,  at  least,  till  after  the  birth  of  Pharez 
and  Zarah  (comp.  w.  5,  11,  12,  20,  and  24.)  Yet,  according 
to  Baumgarten,  the  selling  of  Joseph  (in  chap,  xxxvii.)  must 
have  taken  place  at  that  very  time.  Probably  Judah  separated 
from  his  brethi'en  immediately  after  Joseph's  removal,  and  in 
the  twentieth  or  twenty-first  year  of  his  life.  Between  that 
period  and  the  time  when  the  family  passed  into  Egypt,  twenty- 
two  years  elapsed — an  interval  this  quite  sufficient  for  all  the 
events  related  in  chap,  xxxviii. 

Indeed  it  seems  to  us  more  than  probable  that  Judah  had  left 
his  fathers  house,  not  only  immetliately  after  Joseph  was  sold 
into  Egypt,  but  also  on  account  of  it.  The  continued  lamenta- 
tion of  his  father  about  the  loss  of  Joseph  (chap,  xxxvii.  v^-.  34 
and  35),  would  probably  be  most  disagreeable  to  him,  while  the 
reproaches  of  Reuben  (comp.  chap,  xxxvi.  yx.  29,  30)  against 
him,  as  the  cause  of  this  misfortune,  and  perhaps  the  admoni- 
tions of  his  own  conscience  would  disturl)  him  so  long  as  he 
continued  in  his  father's  house.  To  get  rid  of  aU  these  dis- 
agreeable impressions,  he  separated,  in  a  fit  of  impenitent  anger, 
from  his  father  and  his  brothers,  set  up  l)y  himself,  and  joined 

z2 


356  JACOB.  (§  86.) 

the  Canaanite,  Hirah  of  Adiillam.  Supposing  these  statements 
to  be  correct,  his  after  history  appears  in  a  peciihar  and  striking- 
light.  Such  impenitent,  wi'athful,  and  perverse  conduct  could 
only  lead  to  calamity.  And  retribution  soon  follows.  The  sins 
of  the  father  are  visited  on  Er,  his  first-born  :  "  He  was  wicked 
before  Jehovah,  wherefore  He  slew  him."  .  His  second  son  Onan 
is  guilty  of  abominable  sin,  and  also  cut  off  in  righteous  indig- 
nation. Judah  himself  is  guilty  of  fornication  (idolatry  ?)  and 
incest.  Viewed  from  this  point,  the  question  wdiether  his  mar- 
riage with  a  Canaanite  deserved  implicit  blame  {Drechsler,  1.  c, 
p.  256),  or  wdiether  it  was  allowable  on  account  of  his  changed 
relation  to  the  patriarchal  family  (Baumgarten,  1.  c,  p.  317), 
loses  its  importance.  For,  even  if  we  were  to  disapprove  of  such 
union,  his  perverse  conduct,  and  his  impenitent  separation  from 
his  family,  in  which  the  promise  rested,  make  the  other  sin  ap- 
pear comparatively  small,  subordinate  and  secondary.  However, 
irrespective  of  any  special  aggravating  circumstances,  we  gener- 
ally agree  with  Baumgarten,  vA\o  says:  "  Any  connection  be- 
tween one  of  the  first  three  patriarchs  and  the  daughters  of 
Canaan  would  be  wholly  improper,  as  the  chosen  family  had  in 
theu'  time  not  been  entirely  separated.  But  now,  when  the 
house  of  Israel  has  been  constituted,  the  union  between  a  mem- 
ber of  this  family  and  a  Canaanite  no  longer  constitutes  an  ab- 
solute obstacle,  preventing  such  an  inch vi dual  from  sharing  in 
the  rights  of  the  chosen  race  (comp.  chap.  xlvi.  10)  ;  for  it  may 
readily  be  conceived,  that,  notwithstanding  such  marriage,  the 
family,  as  a  whole,  preserved  the  consciousness  of  its  separation. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  such  a  marriage  was  certainly  not  to  be 
approved."  AduUain  lay  in  the  plain  of  Judah  (Joshua  xv.  35, 
compared  with  1  Sam.  xxii.  1,  &c.  ;  2  Sam.  xxiii.  13.)  Chezib, 
Avhere,  accortUng  to  verse  5,  Judah  was  when  his  third  son  was 
born,  is  probably  the  same  as  Aclizib,  which  also  lay  in  the  plain 
of  Judah  (Josh.  xv.  44  ;  Micah  i.  14.) 

(2.)  The  marriage  with  a  widow,  which  was  incumbent  on 
the  nearest  relative  of  one  who  had  died  without  lea\'ing  cliildren, 
Avlien  the  first-born  son  of  the  new  marriage  bore  the  name  and 
inherited  the  rights  of  the  deceased,  appears  from  this  passage 
to  have  been  an  ancient  custom  of  the  tribe,  the  observance  of 
which  was  at  that  time  even  more  stringent  than  as  afterwards 
fixed  by  the  Mosaic  law.  For,  according  to  Deut.  xxv.  7,  &c. 
(compared  with  Ruth  iii.  13  ;  iv.  6,  &c.),  the  next  of  kin  might, 
under  certain  circumstances,  avoid  this  duty.  Of  this  pri\dlege 
there  is  no  trace  in  the  i^resent  instance.  Doubtless,  it  was  the 
purpose  of  this  ordinance  to  preserve  the  name,  the  family,  and 
the  inheritance  of  the  deceased.  It  probably  arose  from  the 
views  of  those  times,  when,  in  the  absence  of  a  clear  knowledge 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  JUDAH.    (§  80.)  357 

of  a  life  after  death,  men  were  chiefly  concerned  about  the  hopes 
and  prospects  connected  with  this  worki,  and  regarded  the  Hfo 
of  a  son,  who  had  entered  into  the  position  and  the  rights  of  his 
father,  as  a  continuance  of  that  of  the  deceased.  For  furtlier 
particulars,  comp.  below  our  remarks  on  the  Mosaic  laws. 

(3.)  We  do  not  account  for  the  tenacity  with  which  Tamar 
clung  to  her  claims  on  the  family  of  Judah  cither  by  her  sen- 
suality or  by  the  reproach  which  attached  to  a-  liarren  woman. 
Manifestly  she  is  anxious  not  only  to  have  a  child,  but  to  have 
one  from  i\\Q  family  of  Jiidali.  And  the  less,  by  her  birth  as  a 
heathen,  she  was  entitled  to  any  connection  with  the  chosen  race, 
tlie  more  jealously  did  she  insist  on  the  rights  which  marriage 
had  given  her.  The  same  views,  but  in  an  infinitely  higher  and 
nobler  form,  appear  under  similar  circumstances  in  the  case  of 
Ruth.  However  we  may  feel  the  deep  aberration  of  Tamar,  we 
cannot  ignore  that  in  it  a  higher  fiith  was  concealed,  which  J. 
P.  Lange  (Life  of  Jesus  ii.  3,  p.  1808)  not  inaptly  designates  as 
"  an  enthusiastic  reverence  for  the  theocratic  in  the  family  of 
Judah." 

(4.)  As  Shelah  could  not  have  been  much  younger  than  Onan, 
Tamar  must  have  felt  that  the  direction  of  Judah,  "  remain  a 
widow  at  thy  fixther's  house  till  Shelali  my  son  be  grown,"  was 
merely  an  empty  pretext.  She  rights  herself  in  a  truly  Oanaanitish 
manner.  Here  also  it  appears  how  thoroughly  Judah  had,  by 
separation  from  his  father's  house,  and  by  intercourse  and  con- 
nection with  the  Canaanites,  become  entangled  in  their  practices. 
We  can  scarcely  believe  that  his  sin  with  Tamar  belonged  to  the 
category  of  ordinary  sins  of  this  kind.  It  implied — though 
perhaps  unintentionally  on  his  part — a  conformity  to  the  practices 
and  habits  of  the  Canaanitish  worship  of  nature.  Verses  21  and 
23  represent  Tamar  as  assuming  the  appearance  and  the  dress 
of  a  Kedeshah  {i.e.  one  who  dedicates  herself.)  These  females 
were  devoted  to  Asherah,  the  representative  of  the  female  prin- 
ciple in  the  life  of  nature,  and  like  the  Ambubajai  of  later  times 
went  al)out,  or  sat  by  the  road  (Jer.  iii.  2),  prostituting  them- 
selves for  a  reward,  which  was  given  to  the  goddess  (comp. 
on  this  practice  Movers,  Phoenicia  i.,  p.  G79,  &c.  ;  Lengerke, 
Canaan  i.,  p.  253,  &c.)  This  view  of  the  disguise  of  Tamar  is 
specially  confirmed  by  the  circumstance  that  according  to  v.  17 
she  aslced  a  hid  of  the  goafs  as  her  reward;  for  we  know  from 
other  sources  f  Tacitus,  Hist.  ii.  3)  that  goats  were  chiefly  sacri- 
ficed to  this  goddess.  It  may  however  have  been,  as  Tnch  sup- 
poses (1.  c,  p.  5()G),  that  the  exju'cssion  Kedeshah  in  verses  21 
and  22  had  only  "  been  derived  from  tlie  worship  of  Astarte,  and 
was  retained  in  common  iiarlance  (Hosea  iv.  14),  as  perhaps 
more  .decent  than  niit'  ^^^'^  ^^'^^^  '^^'^  ^^'^^  ground  it  is  used  in 


358  JACOB.  (§86.) 

verse  21,  when  Hirali  questions  the  people  of  Enaim,  and  receives 
their  reply."  The  Enaim  of  verse  14  is  probably  the  same  as 
the  Enam  of  Joshua  xv.  34,  which  lay  in  the  plain  of  Judali. 
On  Timnah,  which  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  Timnah  of 
the  tribe  of  Dan  (the  modern  Tibneh),  which  lay  to  the  east  of 
Bethshemesh,  comp.  Joshua  xv.  57,  according  to  wliich  it  lay  in 
Mount  Judah. 

(5.)  According  to  Deut.  xxii.  verses  21  to  24,  adultery — 
whether  the  woman  was  actually  married  or  only  a  bride — was 
punished  with  stoning.  It  has  been  attempted  to  trace  in  our 
narrative  the  existence  of  this  law,  and  suggested  that  Tamar 
was  to  have  been  first  stoned  and  then  burned,  and  that  the  law 
in  Deuteronomy  implied  punishment  of  the  same  kind.  But  as 
in  Genesis  xxx\dii.  we  do  not  read  anything  about  stoning,  nor 
in  Deut.  xxii.  anything  about  burning,  we  are  not  warranted  to 
have  recourse  to  such  a  hypothesis.  In  general,  the  punishment 
of  stoning  was  only  introduced  with  the  law,  and  that  for  certain 
reasons,  to  which  we  shaU  by  and  by  refer.  The  confession  of 
Judah,  "  she  has  been  more  righteous  than  I,"  seems  to  indicate 
that  this  formed  a  turning  point  in  the  life  of  Judah.  In  con- 
firmation of  tliis  view  we  find  him  afterwards  re-united  with  his 
father  and  brothers,  and  in  a  state  of  mind  which  implies  a 
thorough  change  of  heart  and  hfe.  It  is  in  this  light  that  we 
regard  the  circumstance  that  he  had  no  farther  connection  with 
Tamar. 

(6.)  On  the  remarkable  circumstances  attending  the  delivery 
of  Tamar,  comp.  J.  D.  Michaelis  (note  ad  h.  1.,  p.  165,  &c.), 
who  adduces  medical  evidence  about  the  possibility  and  the  actual 
occurrence  of  such  deliveries  (comp.  also  the  professional  remarks 
of  TrusoM,  "  Diseases  of  the  Bible,"  p.  57,  &c.,  and  of  Friedreich, 
"  Notes  to  the  Bible"  i.,  p.  123,  &c.)  The  contrast  between  her 
sufierings  during  the  delivery  and  her  former  conduct  is  notice- 
able, as  shewing  the  special  retribution  of  Divine  Providence. 
Besides,  the  narrative  is  given  at  such  length,  in  order  to  shew 
how,  contrary  to  all  experience  and  expectation,  Pharez  had 
become  the  first  born. 

(7. )  Ewcdd  (i. ,  p.  433)  supposes  ' '  that  in  this  almost  jocular  (?) 
descrijition  of  pristine  events  in  the  history  of  the  tribe  and  of 
the  race,  it  is  impossible  to  mistake  the  real  meaning.  Even 
before  the  fourth  narrator  had  thus  elaborated  this  legend, 
popular  humour  may  during  the  ninth  centuiy  have  taken  this 
kind  of  revenge  for  a  number  of  wrongs  and  insults  on  the  part 
of  members  of  the  reigning  family  of  David,  which  had  sprung 
from  this  Pharez,  by  devising  such  an  ancestry  of  the  family. 
In  direct  opposition  to  this  is  the  narrative  in  the  book  of  Ruth, 
to  which  probal)]y  tlie  same  amount  of  truth  attaches.'     Without 


Joseph's  low  estate.  (§  86,  87.)  350 

stopping  to  refute  this  novel  discovery,  we  sketch  the  place  and 
bearing  of  this  chapter  in  the  development  of  the  history  of  the 
family.  The  birth  of  Pharez  forms  the  central  point  of  this 
chapter,  as,  according  to  the  law,  he  occupied  the  place  of  the 
first-born  of  Judah.  All  that  precedes  only  forms  the  basis  for 
this  account,  and  is  so  circumstantially  narrated,  only  because 
it  at  the  same  time  affords  a  deep  insight  into  the  personal  posi- 
tion and  the  liistory  of  Judah.  Again  the  history  of  Judah  and 
of  liis  house  is  of  such  importance,  because  in  his  prophetic 
blessing  (Gen.  xlix)  Jacob  assigns  to  Judah  the  sceptre  of  jirin- 
cipality  among  the  tribes  of  Israel ;  and  the  primogeniture  of 
Pharez  is  brought  out  so  prominently  because  Nahshon,  the 
eminent  prince  and  leader  in  Israel,  during  the  journey  through 
the  wilderness,  is  a  descendant  of  Pharez  (Numbers  ii.  3  ;  Euth 
iv.  18  to  20.)  "But" — we  continue  with  Baumgarte7i  (i.  1,  p. 
313,  &c.) — "  we  may  look  beyond  the  natm-al  horizon  of  Moses  ; 
for  we  do  not  merely  say  that  Moses  has  written  this  account, 
but  also  that  the  Holy  Ghost  has  written  it.  We  therefore  per- 
ceive in  this  narrative  a  glance  into  ages  yet  future.  (Gal.  iii. 
8.)  We  call  to  mind  that  king  David  had  sprung  from 
Nahshon  (Euth  iv.  18 — 22),  and  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who 
was  made  of  God  both  Lord  and  Christ,  was  the  son  of  David. 
We  are  therefore  now  tracing  the  Kneage  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
looking  forward  to  Him  who  is  both  the  commencement  and  the 
end  of  all  things."  The  narrative  discloses  the  sins  of  Judah 
with  the  same  openness  and  faithfulness  as  it  details  the  moral 
aberrations  of  other  patriarchs  and  kings,  for  the  purpose  of 
shewing  that  the  high  position  assigned  to  them  in  the  kingdom 
of  God,  and  to  which  they  were  called  and  trained,  was  not  due 
to  their  own  virtue  and  excellency,  but  to  the  sovereign  mercy 
of  Him  that  had  called  them. 


JOSEPH  S  LOW  ESTATE. 

§  87.  (Gen.  xxxix.  andxl.) — The  Ishmaelites  had  sold  Joseph 
into  Egypt  to  Potiphar,  the  captain  of  Pharaoh's  guard.  Here 
the  conscientious  and  devout  youth  soon  gained  the  implicit 
confidence  of  liis  master,  who  appointed  him  overseer  of  his 
whole  house  ;  for  the  blessing  (1)  of  God  visibly  rested  \\\)0\\  all 
that  he  achninistered.  But  the  wife  of  Potiphar  endeavoured, 
by  her  seductions,  to  entrap  the  fair  son  of  Eachel.  All  these 
attempts  are  resisted  by  the  youth  who  feared  the  Lord.  These 
refusals  only  increased  the  passion  of  the  woman.     On  one  occa- 


360  JACOB.  (§87.) 

sioii  when  she  attempts  violence,  Joseph  leaves  his  upper  garment 
in  her  hands  and  flees.  Her  love  now  changes  into  equally 
violent  hatred.  She  calls  around  her  all  the  servants,  and, 
shewing  the  garment,  accuses  Joseph  of  having  attempted  to 
seduce  her  (2.)  In  consequence,  Potiphar  casts  liis  servant  into 
prison  ;  but  there  also  the  blessing  of  God  follows  him,  and  pre- 
pares him  for  the  high  calling  formerly  announced  to  him  in  his 
dreams.  Joseph  gains  the  full  confidence  of  the  keeper  of  the 
prison,  and  when  soon  afterwards  two  high  officers  of  the  court, 
the  chief  of  the  butlers  and  the  chief  of  the  bakers,  are,  by 
the  king's  command,  committed  to  the  same  prison,  he  is,  on 
account  of  his  tried  fidelity  and  ability,  appointed  to  wait  on 
them  (3.)  In  one  night  the  two  officers  dream  each  a  dream, 
which  so  remarkably  correspond  to  one  another,  that  they  are 
unable  to  conceal  their  sadness  from  not  understanding  what,  to 
all  appearance,  were  significant  dreams.  Joseph  sympatliises 
with  them.  He  feels  within  him  the  prophetic  gift  of  interpre- 
tation, and  without  any  assiunption  of  superior  ability,  requests 
them  to  communicate  their  dreams,  and  thereafter  announces  to 
the  chief  of  the  butlers  his  speedy  restoration  to  office,  and  to 
the  cliief  of  the  bakers  his  impending  doom  (4.) 

The  many  references  to  the  manners  and  circumstances  of 
Egypt,  which  occur  in  the  history  of  Joseph  (chap.  xxx\n[i.  to  1.) 
have  been  traced  in  detail  by  Hengstenherg  (in  his  Egy|3t  and 
the  Books  of  Moses),  and  proved  to  be  in  entire  accordance  with 
the  results  of  modern  researches.  Comp.  also  Oshurns  Ancient 
Egypt,  her  testimony  to  the  truth  of  the  Bible. 

(1.)  The  name  Potiphar  seems  to  be  an  abbreviation  of  the 
term  Pothiphera,  which  occurs  in  chap,  xli.,  verses  45  and  50. 
The  LXX.  render  both  by  neTe(^pri'i.  This  corresponds  to  the 
Egyptian  HETE — ^PH,  i.e.  qui  sobs  est,  soli  proprius  et  quasi 
addictus  (comp.  Gesenius,  Thes.  1094),  a  name  which,  accord- 
ing to  Bosellini,  occurs  frequently  in  the  momunents.  Potiphar 
is  first  mentioned  as  ni^HQ  D"'1D  (authorised  version,  an  officer 

of  Pharaoh.)  We  cannot  take  tliis  term  in  its  literal  acceptation 
(=  eunuch),  as  Potiphar  was  married,  and  it  is  sufficiently 
ascertained  that  the  expression  was  applied  to  all  the  servants 
of  the  court,  many  of  whom  were  selected  from  among  the 
eunuchs.  Gesenius  (s.  h.  v.)  has  indeed  attempted  to  cast  doubts 
upon  this  :  "  quum  non  desint  exempla — eunuchorum  ad  coitum 


Joseph's  low  estate.  (§  87.)  361 

et  mEitvimonltim  non  prorsiis  iiupotentium  (for  which  he  adduces 
evidence  from  ancient  and  modern  writers),  et  in  reliqiiis  V.  T. 
locis  non  pauci  sint,  quibus  propria  vocabnli  p'otestas  manifesto 
retinenda  est."  But  we  are  not  warranted  in  supposing  this  in 
the  present  instance  ;  nor  could  we  believe  that  a  eunuch  would 
have  been   chosen   as  Q'^n^tsn   "W^   which    Gesenius   himself 

(p.  542)  renders  by  "  pra^fectus  carnificum,  i.e.,  satellitum." 
Hitzig  (in  his  "  Primeval  History  of  the  Philistines,"  p.  19,  &c.) 
has  indeed  objected  to  this  rendering  of  the  word  □inilSj  ^^'^^ 
stated  that,  although  "  it  was  the  duty  of  the  guard  to  execute 
any  condemned  prisoner's  of  state,  this  could  not  have  occurred 
so  continuously,  that  they  should  have  derived  from  it  their 
official  title."  It  is  argued  that  the  QTIDIO  (properly  slayers) 
of  a  king  were  in  the  first  place  to  act  as  butchers,  to  kill  and  to 
divide  the  animals  which  were  to  be  prepared  for  the  royal  table. 
But  from  a  comparison  of  2  Kings  xxv.  8,  &c.  ;  Jer.  xxxix.  9 — 
11  ;  xl.  1 — 5,  &c.,  the  common  rendering  of  the  word  appears 
to  be  the  only  correct  one.  The  designation  of  Potiphar  (d">-)d) 
implies,  however,  that  the  custom  of  having  eunuclis  was 
common  at  the  court  of  Egy|3t.  Tliis  is  denied  by  Bolilen, 
Comment,  p.  360,  who  charges  the  wiiter  of  Genesis  with  having 
transferred  to  Egypt  "  a  custom  of  the  Hebrew  court"  (?  !) 
But  this  objection  is  entirely  removed  by  yvlmt  lioscUini  remarks 
of  the  representation  of  eunuchs  on  monuments  (comp.  Heng- 
stenherg,  1.  c,  p.  22.)  The  remark  in  verse  G,  that  Potiphar 
"  left  all  that  he  had  in  Joseph's  hand.  .  save  the  bread  which 
he  did  eat,"  is  accounted  for  on  the  ground  of  the  existence  of 
castes  in  Egypt,  and  of  the  laws  concerning  meats  enforced  in 
that  country  (conv^.  Sommer  Bibl.  Treat.  Bonn.  1846,  i.,  p.  278, 
&c.)  On  the  duties  and  the  position  of  the  chief  stewards  of 
Egyptian  nobles,  RoselUni  furnishes  some  very  interesting 
notices  gathered  from  the  monuments  (vide  Hengstenherg,  I.e., 
p.  23,  (fee. 

(2.)  At  all  times  there  have  been  loud  complaints  of  the  dis- 
solute and  adulterous  i)ractices  common  among  Egyptian  tvomen 
(for  example,  Herodotus  ii.  Ill,  Bar-Hebr.,  }).  217),  and  the 
licentiousness  of  females  appears  also  frequently  on  the  monu- 
ments. From  the  monuments  we  also  gather  that  in  Egypt  the 
women  had  not  lived  so  retired  as  in  other  ancient  countries. 
Frequently  men  and  women  are  represented  as  in  promiscuous 
company.  A  good  deal  of  probability  also  attaches  to  the 
opinion  so  often  expressed  that  Potiphar  had  not  credited  the 
aecusations  of  his  wife,  and  only  imprisoned  Jose|)li  for  the  sake 
of  appearances.  At  any  rate,  he  was  honoured  with  the  confi- 
dence of  Potipliar  whilst  in  prison   (chap.  xl.  4),  nor  does  the 


362  JACOB.  (§  87.) 

punishment  awarded  to  him  seem  to  correspond  to  the  crime 
with  which  he  was  charged. 

(S.)  We  will  not  in  detail  answer  to  the  charge  of  confusion 
which  TucJi  (p.  508,  &c.,  comp.  also  Lengerke  i.,  p.  338,  note) 
has  supposed  to  exist  in  the  text,  since,  according  to  him,  Joseph 
had  had  two  mastei^s,  and  we  read  of  two  captains  of  the  guard. 
Against  this  comp.  the  authors  Unity  of  Genesis,  p.  191,  &c.  ; 
Ranke,  Investigations  i.,  p.  263  ;  DrecJisler,  Unity  and  authen- 
ticity of  Genesis,  p.  259.  We  shall  simply  describe  the  real 
state  of  matters.  As  captain  of  the  guard,  Potiphar  was  at  the 
same  time  inspector  of  the  state  prison,  which  even  in  later 
times  (Jer.  xxxvii.  15),  and  in  our  own  days  in  the  East,  forms 
part  of  the  house  of  that  functionary  (comp.  JRosenmiiUer,  the 
Ancient  and  Modern  East,  note  on  Jer.  xxxvii.  15.)  Again,  it 
appears  quite  natm'al  that  one  so  noble,  and  probably  so  much 
occupied  at  court,  should  not  himself  have  undertaken  the  super- 
intendence and  the  care  of  the  prisoners.  These  duties  he 
devolved  to  a  subordinate  official  who,  in  ch.  xxxix.  21,  bears 
the  name  of  "  keeper  of  the  prison."  To  this  person,  wlio  was 
properly  the  jailor,  he  committed  Joseph.  But  when  the  two 
nigh  officials  were  by  royal  command  cast  into  prison,  we  can 
readily  understand  that  he  would  take  charge  of  them  himself, 
and  care  for  their  proper  treatment,  as  although  they  had,  for 
the  time,  fallen  into  disgrace,  Potiphar  might  have  stood  in 
friendly  relation  toward  them.  Well  knowing  by  experience  the 
capability  and  trustworthiness  of  Joseph,  he  would  naturally 
commit  these  captives  to  the  care  of  the  Hebrew  youth,  the  more 
so  as  the  latter  had  already  shewn  his  aptness  for  such  duties 
(chap,  xxxix.  23) ,  a  circumstance  wliich  the  keeper  of  the  prison 
had  probably  reported  to  Potiphar. 

(4.)  For  adchtional  remarks  on  the  import  of  dreams  in  the 
life  of  Joseph,  comp.  Krummachers  Pages  on  Sacred  History, 
§  67  and  68.  Throughout  antiquity  di'eams  were  considered  as 
a  divine  or  magical  element,  and  it  may  readily  be  believed  that 
at  that  time  di-eams  were  something  different  and  something 
more  than  they  are  at  present,  i.e.,  that  the  supernatm-al  element 
which  still  appears  now  and  then  in  dreams,  was  at  that  time 
much  more  common  and  strong.  Throughout  antiquity,  the 
inner  life  took  much  more  the  direction  of  the  symbolic,  and 
descended  immediately,  not  merely  through  the  medium  of 
abstraction,  into  the  depth  and  fulness  of  the  life  of  nature. 
Hence  the  faculty  of  anticipation  in  man  was  stimulated,  and 
manifested  itself  more  frequently.  In  some,  who  were  specially 
predisposed  to  it,  this  manifested  itself  as  the  gift  of  divination, 
wliile  in  others  it  appeared  rather  in  the  lower  and  less  developed 
Hphere  of  dreams.     But  of  all  nations  in  antiquity  this  gift  was 


Joseph's  low  estate.   (§  87.)  363 

most  prominant  and  distinct  among  the  Egyptians.  "  There  is 
something  night-like  about  the  whole  history  of  tliis  wonderful 
people.  The  various  formations,  the  divine  and  the  human, 
there  run  in  curious  disorder  into  each  other,  and  their  pyramids, 
obelisks,  sphinxes,  and  immense  temples  overtop  everything 
else  like  dream-visions.  We  might  almost  call  the  Egyptians 
the  people  of  di-eams,  of  anticipations,  and  of  enigmas."  It  is 
easy  to  ascertain  the  point  of  connection  for  the  dreams  of  these 
two  captives.  They  knew  that  Pharaoh's  bu'th-day  was  to  be 
in  three  days,  and  from  the  analogy  of  former  experiences,  they 
would  anticipate  that  their  fate  would  then  probably  be  decided. 
Falling  asleep  with  such  thoughts,  wishes,  hopes,  and  fears,  their 
dreams  were  only  a  continuation  of  their  waking  thinking,  when 
the  power  of  anticii)ation,  awakened  wliile  the  external  senses 
were  askep,  descended  into  their  thoughts.  As  Krummacher 
observes,  conscience  may  also  have  had  a  part  in  giving  its  pecu- 
liar cast  to  each  of  the  dreams. 

The  authenticity  of  the  cbeam  wliich  the  chief  of  the  hitlers 
is  said  to  have  had  (he  saw  a  vine  with  thi-ee  branches  and  ripe 
grapes  ;  the  latter  he  pressed  into  Pharaoh's  cup  and  gave  it  into 
his  hand),  as  well  its  historical  basis,  has  been  called  in  question. 
Opponents  have  appealed  to  the  statements  of  Plutarch  (Isis  and 
Osiris  6),  according  to  whom  the  Egyptians  had  not  cidtivated 
or  drunk  wine  before  the  time  of  Psammetich,  having  regarded 
it  as  the  blood  of  Typhon.  But  even  from  Diodorus  i.  11,  15, 
we  gather  that  this  statement  was  due  to  a  mistake.  The  latter 
identifies  Osiris  Avith  Dionysius,  and  ascribes  to  liim  the  inven- 
tion and  introduction  of  the  culture  of  the  \ane.  This  is  also 
confirmed  by  similar  statements  in  Herodotus  ii.  42, 144  ;  Strabo 
xvii.,  p.  799  ;  Flinij,  H.N.  xiv.  9  ;  Athen.  i.,  p.  33.  The  circum- 
stance that  the  vine  was  cultivated  in  Eg}^ot  has  been  ascer- 
tained beyond  the  possibility  of  a  doubt  by  the  evidence  furnished 
on  the  monuments,  which  in  tliis  respect  is  specially  full  and 
satisfactory,  li  Herodotus  remarks  (ii.  77)  that  the  vine  did 
not  gi'ow  in  Egypt,  tliis  statement  must  either  have  been  an 
error,  or  have  only  referred  to  that  part  of  Eg}iit  (the  lower 
lying,  r)  cTTeipofievr)  A'iyu7rT0<;)  of  wliich  he  speaks,  while  the 
vine  was  cultivated  in  the  higher  regions  (comp.  Hengstenberg 
(1.  c,  p.  12,  &c.,  and  Schoh  Introd.  ii.,  p.  188,  <fec.)  The  dream 
of  the  chief  of  the  bakers  (he  carried  tlu-ee  white  baskets  on  his 
head,  full'of  baked  meats,  for  Pharaoh,  and  the  birds  did  eat 
them)  is  also  confirmed  by  a  comparison  with  Egyptian  customs, 
as  gathered  from  the  monuments  (comp.  Hengstenberg  1.  c,  p. 
25,  &c.)  The  essential  ditfercnce  between  the  two  dreams  con- 
sists in  this,  fliat  in  tiie  second  the  birds  of  prey  take  the  place 
of  Pharaoh. 


364  JACOB.   (§  88.) 


THE   ELEVATION  OF  JOSEPH. 

§  88.  (G-en.  xli.  and  xlvii.,  verses  13 — 26.) — The  chief  of  the 
butlers  had  promised  Joseph  to  intercede  for  him  with  Pharaoh, 
But  in  his  prosperity  he  forgot  the  poor  captive.  Thus  other 
two  years  of  hopeless  imprisonment  passed  by.  Then  Pharaoh 
himself  had  two  dreams.  He  stood  by  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  and 
seven  fair  and  fat  kine  ascended  from  it.  After  them  other 
seven  kine,  ill-favom"ed  and  lean,  came  up  and  ate  up  the  fat 
kine,  but  remained  as  lean  and  ill-favoured  as  before.  Upon 
this  Pharaoh  awoke,  and  when  he  again  fell  asleep,  a  second  and 
similar  dream  shaped  itself  in  his  mind.  Seven  good  ears  of 
corn  came  up  upon  one  stalk,  and  after  them  seven  thin  ears, 
and  blasted  with  the  east  wind,  which  devom-ed  the  seven  full 
ears.  In  vain  Pharaoh  sought  among  the  wise  men  of  his  court 
an  interpretation  of  these  dreams  (1.)  Then  only  the  chief  of 
the  butlers  remembered  Joseph,  who  was  now  brought  from  the 
prison,  and  introduced  to  Pharaoh.  Having  with  child-like 
humility  ascribed  the  honom-  not  to  himself  but  to  God,  he  inter- 
prets the  dreams  as  referring  to  seven  years  of  great  plenty  in 
Egypt,  to  be  succeeded  by  seven  years  of  dearth  and  famine,  and 
suggests  that,  during  the  years  of  plenty,  provision  should  be 
made  for  those  of  famine.  Pharaoh  feels  that  the  Spirit  of  God 
is  in  the  youth.  He  elevates  him  to  the  rank  of  administrator 
of  his  kingdom,  naturalises  and  makes  liim  a  member  of  the 
priestly  caste,  and  gives  him  to  wife  the  daughter  of  the  chief 
priest  of  Heliopolis  (2),  of  whom  he  has  two  sons,  Manasseh  and 
Ephraim.  It  soon  happened  as  Joseph  predicted.  But  immense 
stores  of  corn  had  been  accumulated  during  the  plenty  of  the 
fertile  years,  and  when  the  years  of  famine  commenced,  Joseph 
was  not  only  able  to  supply  Egypt,  but  also  those  neighbouring 
countries  which  experienced  similar  want.  At  the  sametime  he 
has  now  the  opportunity  of  introducing  wise  reforms  into  the 
administration  of  the  State,  and  by  giving  a  settled  legal  form 
to  the  relations  between  the  king  and  his  subjects,  to  lay  the 
foundation  of  the  lasting  prosperity  of  the  country  (3.) 

(1.)  The  DREAMS  OF  Pharaoh  show  genuine  Egyptian  habits 


THE  ELEVATION  OF  JOSEPH.    (§  88.)  365 

of  tliinkiiig  (comp.  Hengstenherg  I.e.  p.  26  &c.)     The  constitu- 
tion of  Egypt  is  based  on  agricultm-e,  and  the  success  of  the 
latter  depends  on  the  inundations  of  the  Nile.     In  virtue  of  the 
worship  of  nature  prevalent  in  Eg}T^)t,  both  of  these  were  viewed 
under  a  religious  aspect.      But  the  worship  of  nature  in  Egypt 
took  the  peculiar  form  of  the  worship  of  animals.      Hence  the 
Nile  became  Osiris,  the  fructifying  and  begetting  principle  in 
nature,  and  a  hull  was  regarded  as  the  symbol  and  rei)resenta- 
tive  of  both.      From  this  arose  then  the  further  view  according 
to  which  Isis,  or  the  female  principle  in  nature,  was  identified 
with  the  country  or  the  earth  generally,  and  both  worshipped 
under  the  symbol  of  a  cow.       The  fertility  of  a  year  depended 
upon  the  due  proportion  of  the  Nile-inundation.     Too  much  or 
too   little  of  it   would   necessarily  bring   dearth  and  famine. 
Hence  both  the  fat  and  the  lean  kiue  which  were  seen  to  ascend 
from  the  Nile  Avere  symbols  either  of  years  of  fruitfulness  or  of 
dearth.     Although  the  second  dream  is  no  longer  connected  with 
religious  symbols,  but  with  real  appearances,  it  is  still  pecidiarly 
Egyptian.      This  appears  even  from  the  circumstance  that  the 
withered  ears   are   represented   as   blasted   by  the  east   wind, 
BoJilen  (p.  56)  objects,  indeed,  that  the  wi-iter  in  this  case  trans- 
fers Palestinian  ideas  to  Egyptian  circumstances,  inasmuch  as 
there  was  no  east  wind  in  Egyjit.  But  as  the  Hebrews  had  special 
names  only  for  the  four  principal  directions  of  the  wind,   the 
term  Qi-fp   probably  applies   also  to   the   south-east  wind,  or 

Chamsin,  which  comes  from  the  Arabian  wilderness,  and  by  its 
heat  destroys  vegetation.  As  the  narrative  is  placed  in  the  Delta 
(probably  in  the  ancient  city  of  Zoan  or  Tanis,  Numb.  xiii.  23  ; 
Ps.  Ixxviii.  12,  43)  the  mention  of  this  wind  is  quite  in  keeping. 
Comp.  also  Uckert,  Geography,  p.  Ill  ;  Hengstenherg,  I.e.  p. 
9,  &c. 

Pharaoh  applies  to  the   Egyptian   Chartummim    (□"^tSIOin 

according  to  Oesenius  from  ^-^n  sculpsit,  or  ^-^n   stylus   and 

□-^pf!  sacer  fuit  =  scriba  sacer,  scriptm-a3  sacrte  [hieroglyphicae] 

peritus,  lepoypafjifiarevs:)  for  an  interpretation  of  his  dreams. 
On  this  Hengstenherg  remarks  (I.e.  27)  :  "  In  ancient  Egyptian 
society  we  meet  a  class  of  men  to  whom  the  description  here 
given  exactly  applies.  The  Egyptian  caste  of  priests  had  the 
double  duty  of  performing  the  outward  service  of  the  gods,  and 
of  cultivating  what  in  Egjqjt  passed  for  science.  The  former  de- 
volved on  what  are  caUcd  prophets — the  latter  on  sacred  Avriters, 
lepoypafjb/jLaTel<;.  These  were  the  learned  men  of  the  nation  ; 
and  as  in  the  Pentateucli  they  are  called  the  '  Wise  Men,'  so  by 
classical  writers  they  are  designated  as  '  the  initiated.'  Under 
all  circumstances,  whenever  aiiytliing  lay  beyond  the  spliere  of 


366  JACOB.   (§  88.) 

ordinary  knowledge  or  capacity,  people  applied  to  them  for 
direction  and  assistance."  If  it  was  asked  Low  these  Chartum- 
mim  had  not  come  upon  so  obvious  an  interpretation,  we  reply, 
that  the  dreams  contained  something  so  extraordinary  and  in- 
credible that  none  of  the  priests  had  ventured  to  offer  an  inter- 
pretation which  would  almost  seem  ready  to  hand.  The  well- 
grounded  apprehension  that  a  short  time  would  prove  them  to 
be  liars  and  false  prophets,  and  thus  expose  them  to  the  wrath  of 
Pharaoh,  made  it  appear  more  advisable  to  plead  ignorance. 
Again,  we  cannot  overlook  what  Baumgarten  remarks,  i.  p.  325 : 
"  It  is  the  judgment  of  the  wisdom  of  this  world,  that  it  is  unable 
to  reply  when  answer  is  most  needed.  For  it  forms  part  of  the 
divine  government  of  the  world  to  shut  the  lips  of  the  eloquent, 
and  to  take  understanding  from  the  ancient.  Job.  xii.  20." 
Hdveriiick,  Introd.  i.  2,  p.  386,  &c.,  attempts  to  combine  these 
seven  years  famine  with  the  ancient  legend  of  Busiris,  which,  ac- 
cording to  his  opinion,  had  sprung  from  it. 

(2.)  It  is  further  a  genuine  Egyptian  feature  that  Joseph 
shaved  himself  before  coming  into  the  presence  of  Pharaoh 
{Hengstenherg  I.e.  p.  28.)  Divine  inspiration  and  not  human 
combination  and  wisdom  enabled  Joseph  to  interpret  the  ch'eams. 
Thus  he  obtained  the  certainty  and  firmness,  the  quiet  demean- 
our and  confidence  which  always  produce  an  impression  on 
those, around,  and  which  in  this  case,  despite  the  incredibleness 
of  what  he  announced,  gave  to  Pharaoh  and  to  his  servants  the 
conviction  that  the  Spirit  of  God  was  in  him.  In  thinking  of  the 
ELEVATION  OF  JosEPH  wc  must  remember  that  in  Egypt  a  very 
high  value  was  attached  to  this  kind  of  wisdom,  and  v.  Bohlen 
opportunely  reminds  us  of  the  circumstance  recorded  in  Hero- 
dotus, ii.  121 ,  when  Rhampsinit  made  the  son  of  an  architect 
his  own  son-in-law  because  he  judged  him  to  be  the  cleverest 
person.  In  order  to  elevate  Joseph  to  his  high  dignity  Pharaoh 
first  naturalises  him  by  giving  him  an  Egyptian  name,  which, 
in  the  Hebrew  original,  and  according  to  a  Hebrew  form,  is  called 
TCi^S  n^D!?'  ^^^^  i^  ^^^  LXX.  which  keeps  more  closely  by  the 
Egyptian,  -^ouOoiJicfyavjjx-  Hieronymus  translates  this  by  "  sal- 
vator  mundi,"  and  a  marginal  remark  to  the  LXX.  in  Bernard 
on  Josephus  (Ed.  Haverc.)  Antiq.  ii.  6,  1,  similarly  explains  the 
name  by,  o  ecrnv  6  acorrjp  tov  k6(tixov.  Jahlonski  and  RoseUini 
have  approved  of  this  interpretation,  but  Gesenius,  Thes.  1181, 
prefers  rendering  it  by  "  sustentator,  vindex  mundi,"  since  the 
above  interpretation  is  founded  on  the  reading  -^o/xdo/jucpavijx, 
which  is  manifestly  not  correct,  the  evidence  being  in  favour  of 
the  reading  -^ovOo/xcjiav/jx-  E.  Meier,  Diet,  of  Roots,  702,  renders 
it  by  "  support  or  foundation  of  life." 

The  letters  q  and  ^j  being  transposed  and  the  Egyptian  geni- 


THE  ELEVATION  OF  JOSEPH.    (§  88.)  367 

live  ix  (ofx)  being  left  out,  Hebrew  tradition  adopted  the  Semitic 
form  Zaphnath-Paneah,  meaning,  "  revelator  occultorum."  The 
fact  that  Joseph  was  arrayed  in  wJiite  linen  implied  not  only  that 
he  was  naturalised,  but  probably  also  that  he  was  received  into 
the  caste  of  priests,  who  always  wore  linen  garments  {Herod. 
237),  because  garments  made  from  materials  derived  from  the 
vegetable  kingdom,  especially  Unen  garments,  were  regarded  as 
symbols  of  purity  and  lioliness  (comp.  Bdhr,  Symbolic  ii.  p.  87 
&c.)  AVlien  Pharaoh  gave  to  Joseph  his  signet,  he  invested  him 
with  the  dignity  of  Vizier,  as  the  possession  of  this  signet  enabled  ' 
him  to  act  in  name  of  the  king.  The  gold  necklace  which  on 
the  monuments  is  always  worn  by  kings  and  nobles  ( Hengsten- 
berg,  I.e.  j).  29,  &c.)  also  indicates  that  Pharaoh  had  elevated 
him  to  a  high  dignity.  After  that  Pharaoh  made  him  drive 
in  his  own  chariot,  and  caused  to  be  jwoclaimed  before  him  : 
"nn^t^-  Without  doubt  this  word  was  originally  Egyptian, 
although  related  to  the  Hebrew '-r-^^,  to  hend  the  knee.  All  who 
have  attempted  to  derive  it  from  the  Egyptian  agree  that  it 
implies  "  bowing  down,"  or  "  falling  down."  Comp.  Gesenius, 
Thes.  19.  According  to  Benfey  (on  the  relation  between  the 
Egyptian  and  the  Shemitic  language,  p.  302,  &c.)  and  Meier 
(Diet,  of  Eoots,  703)  it  is  an  Egyi^tian  imperative,  and  equi- 
valent to  the  Coptic  bor  =  to  fall  down  =  to  do  obeisance. 
To  give  a  firmer  basis  to  the  position  of  Joseph,  Pharaoh  unites 
him  to  Asenath,  the  daughter  of  Pothiphera,  the  high  priest  of 
On.  The  translation  of  the  LXX.  leaves  no  room  for  doubting 
that  the  latter  was  the  old  Egyptian  name  for  the  later  HeUo- 
polis.  Cyrillus  ad  Hos.  p.  145,  remarks  :  */2v  he  iart  Kar 
auTou?  6  ■)]\to<i,  and  OEIN  means  in  Coptic  light,  or  light  of  the 

sun.  The  ruins  of  this  ancient  city,  still  called  y-v^  ^as,  are 
found  near  the  village  of  Maturia.  Of  old  a  celebrated  temple 
of  the  sun  was  there  to  which  a  numerous  and  learned  priesthood 
was  attached  (Herod,  ii.  3.  59)  who  occupied  the  first  place  in 
the  Egyptian  colleges  of  priests.  Comp.  Hengstenherg,  p.  30,  &c. 
The  LXX.  render  the  name  Asnath  l^y  'AaeveO.  Probably  it  is 
=  AX— N FAT,  "  quae  Neithae  (s.  Minervae)  est,"  cf.  Gesenius 
I.e.  130.  V.  Bohlen  remarks:  "  It  is  entirely  contrary  to  the 
character  of  the  Egyptians  that  an  intolerant  priesthood  should 
have  allowed  an  intermarriage  with  a.  foreign  shepherd."  To 
this  Hengstenherg  replies.  I.e.  p.  32:  "  The  union  took  place  in 
consequence  of  the  command  of  the  king,  and  the  high  priest  of 
On  could  not  refuse  to  obey  this  behest,  as  modern  investigations 
have  shewn  that  the  Phnroahs  had  at  all  times  occupied  the 
highest  priestly  dignity,  and  thus  exercised  not  a  merely  external 
authority  over  the  priesthood.  Besides,  we  have  to  bear  in  mind 
that  when  Joseph  married  the  daughter  of  the  high  priest  he 


3G8  JACOB.  (§  88.) 

was  no  longer  a  foreign  shepherd,  but  had  been  completely 
naturalised  by  the  Idng.  From  Genesis  xliii.  32  we  gather  that 
Joseph  had  completely  left  liis  own  tribe  and  become  one  of  the 
Egyptian  people." 

It  is  more  difficult  to  understand  how  Joseph,  who  was  a  ser- 
vant of  the  living  God,  should  have  become  a  member  of  a 
priesthood  set  apart  for  the  worship  of  natm-e.  But,  collisions 
which  would  have  obliged  him  to  deny  his  faith  in  the  God  of 
his  fathers,  were  scarcely  to  be  apprehended,  as  Joseph  was 
called,  not  to  discharge  the  active  duties  of  the  priesthood,  but  a 
23olitical  office,  for  which  his  reception  into  the  priestly  caste 
only  served  as  a  land  of  substratum.  Besides,  we  may  not  for- 
get that  the  religion  of  Egypt,  in  its  entirely  symbolical  character, 
may,  especially  under  its  earliest  forms,  have  been  capable  of 
such  interpretation  as  was  not  absolutely  contrary  to  the  wor- 
ship of  one  personal  God.  The  indulgence  extended  by  Elisha 
to  Naaman  the  Syi'ian  (ii.  Kings  v.  18),  and  the  analogous 
position  of  Daniel  among  the  magicians,  may  also  be  mentioned 
as  cases  in  point. 

(3.)  Several  pictorial  representations  in  the  monuments  of 
Egypt,  afford  a  correct  insight  into  the  mode  of  Joseph's  activity 
in  preparing  store  houses  for  corn.  Comp.  Hen(jste7iberg , 
I.e.  p.  32,  &c.  The  corn  was  collected  in  obedience  to  a  royal 
decree  (v.  34)  in  virtue  of  which  the  fifth  part  of  all  produce 
was  demanded.  J.  D.  Michaelis  (Notes,  p.  170)  interprets  the 
statement  of  the  text  as  implying  that  Joseph  had  not  demanded 
a  tax  of  the  fifth  of  all  produce,  but  had  purchased  it.  But  tliis 
remark  is  unfounded.  Even  before  the  reform  introduced  into 
the  administration  of  Egypt  to  which  we  shaU  immediately  refer, 
all  subjects  had  to  pay  taxes  to  the  king,  only  that  these  were 
left  to  the  arbitrary  mil  of  the  monarch,  while  Joseph  introduced 
a  regular  and  fixed  law  on  the  subject,  thereby  protecting  both  the 
interests  of  the  king  and  of  the  people.  V.  Bohlen  has  stigma- 
tised the  statement  in  chapter  xli.  w.  54  and  57,  that  the  famine 
prevailed,  not  only  in  Egypt  but  in  the  adjoining  countries,  as 
unhistorical.  He  argues  that  the  climate  and  agriculture  of 
Egypt  were  wholly  unconnected  with  those  of  Palestine,  as  in 
Egy]^)t  fertihty  depended  on  the  overflowing  of  the  Nile,  and  not 
on  the  fall  of  rain  as  in  Palestine.  But  tliis  writer  seems  to  have 
forgotten  that  as  the  inundations  of  the  Nile  depended  on  the 
fall  of  rain,  the  same  circumstances  might  ultimately  cause  fer- 
tility or  dearth  in  both  countries.  Hengstetibei-g  remarks  (I.e. 
p.  34)  :  "  The  inundations  of  the  Nile  depend,  as  even  Herodotus 
attested,  on  the  tropical  rains  which  fall  in  the  high  mountains 
of  Abyssinia."  Comp.  Bitter,  Geography  i.  p.  835.  These  rains 
depend  on  the   same  causes  as  those  which  fall  in  Palestine. 


THE  ELEVATION  OF  JOSEPH.    (§  88.)  3G9 

According  to  Le  Pere  (Descr.  vii.  p.  576)  it  is  quite  ascertained 
that  the  swelling  of  the  Nile  is  occasioned  by  the  fall  of  rain,  due 
to  clouds  formed  in  the  Mediterranean  and  carried  by  northerly 
winds  at  certain  seasons  towards  Abyssinia.  Hengslenherg  men- 
tions instances  of  seasons  when  dearth  in  Egypt  was  accompanied 
by  similar  calamities  in  adjoining  countries. 

On  the  administrative  reforms  of  Joseph  comp.  Hengstenherg, 
I.e.  pp.  60  to  68.  In  the  years  of  scarcity  Joseph  sold  corn  to 
the  people,  first  for  their  money,  then  for  their  cattle,  and,  when 
both  were  done,  for  their  land,  which  they  spontaneously  of- 
fered. Having  thus  gained  possession  of  the  whole  country,  he 
again  disposed  of  it  to  the  people  on  definite  princii)les,  making 
them  the  king's  vassals,  and  obliging  them  to  pay  annually  the 
fifth  part  of  the  produce  in  lieu  of  ground-rent.  Only  the  lands 
of  the  priesthood  remained  untouched,  since  their  revenues  from 
the  royal  treasury  had  protected  them  from  the  consequences  of 
the  famine.  Profane  writers  and  the  monuments  confirm  the 
Biblical  account,  in  so  far  as  they  distinctly  state  that  the 
peasantry  were  not  the  landed  proprietors,  and  that  the  priests 
possessed  real  property  free  of  taxation.  Herod,  ii.  109 ; 
Diod.  i.  73 ;  Strabo,  xvii.  p.  787 ;  Wilkinson,  i.  p.  263.  On 
the  other  hand  Herodotus  ascribes  the  apportioning  of  the  land 
among  the  peasants  as  vassals  to  King  ^esostris,  during  whose 
reign  Joseph  could  not  have  administered  the  afi'airs  of  state. 
But  Hengstenberg  rightly  remarks :  "It  may  be  regarded  as  an 
undoubted  result  of  modern  criticism  (comp.  Bdhr,  on  Herod, 
iv.  563)  that  Sesostris  was  a  mythical  and  not  a  historical  per- 
sonage, to  whom  all  the  comprehensive  measures  and  the  suc- 
cesses of  the  ancient  Pharaohs  were  commonly  ascribed."  Again, 
if  Diodorus  and  the  monuments  seem  to  point  to  three  classes  of 
proprietors,  the  kings,  the  priests  and  the  warriors,  the  apparent 
contradiction  with  the  account  in  Genesis,  according  to  which 
only  the  kings  and  priests  were  landed  proprietors,  is  removed 
by  the  statement  in  Herodotus  ii.  141,  168,  according  to  whom 
the  lands  of  the  warriors  really  belonged  to  the  kings,  but  were 
not  subject  to  taxation,  that  privilege  being  gi'anted  to  them  in 
lieu  of  ])ay. 

V.  Bohlcn  has  reiterated  the  grave  accusation  brought  by  others 
against  Joseph  that  he  had  siibdued  a  free  nation  and  reduced  it 
to  a  state  of  servitude.  But  manifestly  vassalage  and  not  servi- 
tude were  the  right  expression ;  and,  considering  that  land,  if 
well  cultivated,  yields  in  Egypt  a  thirty-fold  and  even  greater 
increase,  a  tax  of  one-fifth  of  the  produce  can  scarcely  be  deemed 
oppressive.  In  point  of  fact  we  have  abeady  seen  that  on  de- 
mand the  people  were  quite  ready  to  pay  this  impost  without 
raising  any  complaint.  But  in  defending  the  measure  introduced 
"VOL.  I.  2  a 


370  JACOB.  (§  88.) 

by  Joseph  we  have  also  to  bear  in  mind  that  in  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances of  EgyjDtian  agriculture  both  prosperity,  and  any 
partial  averting  of  adverse  circumstances,  depended  on  a  system 
of  government  centralization,  and  on  a  proper  superintendence  of 
the  measures  adopted  for  fertilising  the  country.  This  is  shewn 
by  Hengstenherg  (Contrib.  iii.  p.  543)  who  quotes  the  following 
passage  from  the  treatise  of  Michaud,  "  de  la  propriete  fonciere 
en  Egypte  "  :  "A  careful  examination  of  the  conditions  on  which 
the  fertility  or  sterility  of  the  soil  depends,  shews  first,  that  landed 
property  could  not  have  been  subject  to  the  same  conditions  and 
laws  in  Egypt  as  in  other  countries.  In  all  other  countries  the 
value  of  landed  property  depends  on  the  character  and  exposure  of 
the  soil,  on  chmatic  influences,  and  on  rain ;  here  everything  is 
derived  from  the  Nile,  and  the  lands  with  their  rich  produce  are, 
to  use  an  expression  of  Herodotus,  in  reality  a  gift  of  the  Nile. 
But  in  order  to  shed  its  blessings  over  Egyjrt  the  Nile  required  a 
strong  hand  to  turn  it  into  canals,  and  thus  to  direct  its  fertilizing 
waters ;  this  distribution  of  its  waters  required  the  assistance  of 
public  and  sovereign  authority  ;  it  was,  therefore,  necessary  that 
Government  should  interfere,  and  this  necessity  of  interference 
must  to  some  extent  have  changed  and  modified  the  rights  of 
landed  proprietors."^  The  absence  of  any  regular  system  of 
irrigation  such  as  government  alone  could  have  introduced,  ren- 
ders the  statement  concerning  the  continuance  of  the  dearth 
during  seven  years  the  more  credible.  Nor  is  it  certainly  with- 
out ground  that  even  tradition  ascribes  to  Joseph  the  institution 
of  such  a  system.  To  tliis  day  the  principal  canal  is  called  the 
Bahr  Yiisef.  , 

The  remarks  oi  Hengstenherg,  I.e.  p.  67,  &c.,  on  the  manifest 
care  with  which  the  text  describes  this  measure  introduced  by 
Joseph,  are  equally  apt  and  ingenious.  He  notices  that  the 
relation  between  the  j)eople  and  their  king  with  resj^ect  to  the 
proprietorship  and  occupancy  of  the  soil  formed  the  basis  of  the 
Theocratic  arrangement  introduced  by  the  law  of  Moses.  (Comp. 
below  the  Section  on  Tithes.) 

(4.)  It  is  impossible  to  ascertain  with  precision  why  Joseph 
should  have  allowed  nine  years  after  his  elevation  to  pass  with- 
out informing  his  mourning  father  about  his  altered  circum- 
stances. It  is,  indeed,  true  that  he  may  have  felt  it  desirable  not 
personally  to  interfere  in  attempting  to  unravel  the  knot  made 
by  God  Himself,  but  to  leave  it  in  His  hands  to  set  the  matter 
right  in  His  own  time  and  in  His  ow^n  way.  At  the  same  time 
we  suppose  that  the  feelings  of  Joseph  towards  his  brethren 
may  have  contributed  to  induce  this  silence  on  his  part.     If 

1    Translated  from  the  French. 


JOSEPH  AND  HIB  BRETHREN.    (§  89.)  371 

Joseph  was  still  unable  to  attain  perfect  calm  and  to  cherish 
sentiments  of  love  and  forgiveness,  if  every  remainder  of  bitter- 
ness had  not  been  banished  from  his  heart,  it  was  certainly  on 
many  grounds  more  advisable  to  withhold  from  his  father  tidings 
of  his  circumstances,  as  any  such  intercourse  would  have  brouglit 
him  again  into  contact  with  his  family  and  his  brethren.  Pro- 
bably of  all  the  eminent  believer^who^^e  lives  are  recorded  in  the 
Old  Testament,  Joseph  is  most  likely  to  be  regarded  in  the  Ught 
of  an  almost  angelic  saint.  Even  interpreters,  otherwise  sober- 
minded,  have  committed  this  mistake.  No  doubt  the  noble 
heart  of  Joseph  was  incapable  of  low  vindictiveness,  or  of  stubborn 
bitterness,  Still  he  was  but  a  man  and  sinful — and  hence  the 
not  reviling  again  when  he  was  reviled  was  no  light  matter  to 
him,  and  could  not  be  attained  without  a  struggle  with  flesh  and 
blood.  Again,  the  further  development  of  the  history  of  Joseph 
clearly  shews  us,  that  when  in  the  wonderful  arrangement  of 
God,  he  meets  his  brethren,  this  meeting  becomes  a  turning- 
point  for  both  parties,  so  that  the  heart  of  Joseph  is  opened 
towards  his  bretln-en  and  that  of  his  brethren  towards  him.  The 
internal  concord  of  the  family  formerly  disturbed  is  then  again 
restored.  Viewed  in  this  light  the  di^dne  wisdom  and  mercy  in 
the  direction  of  events  in  this  history  most  clearly  appears. 


JOSEPH  AND  HIS  BRETHREN. 

§  89.  (Gen.  xUi.) — Canaan  also  suffered  from  this  dearth, 
and  Jacob  sent  all  his  sons  except  Benjamin  into  Egypt  in  order 
to  purchase  corn.  Joseph  at  once  recognises  them,  and  as  in 
lowly  subjection  they  cast  themselves  down  before  him,  he  re- 
mend^ers  his  former  dreams  which  are  now  visibly  fulfilled. 
However,  he  speaks  harshly  to  them,  stigmatises  them  as  spies, 
and  when  they  attempt  to  justify  themselves  by  explaining  their 
circumstances,  he  demands  that,  in  order  to  prove  the  truth  of 
their  assertions,  they  should  bring  to  him  their  youngest  brother. 
For  this  purpose  he  is  willing  that  one  of  them  should  return, 
while  the  others  are  meantime  to  remain  as  hostages  in  prison. 
But,  on  the  third  day,  he  so  far  modifies  his  former  resolution 
as  to  retain  only  one  of  them,  Simeon,  and  to  dismiss  the  others, 
furnishing  them  with  corn  and  charging  them  to  bring  back 
their  youngest  brother.  Then  the  hardened  hearts  of  Joseph's 
brothers  are  broken.  Not  suspecting  that  the  Egyptian  viceroy 
understood  their   tongue,  they  confess;  "we  are  verily  guilty 


372  JACOB.  (^  89.) 

concerning  our  brother,  in  that  we  saw  the  anguish  of  his  soul, 
when  he  besought  us,  and  we  did  not  hear.  Therefore  is  this 
distress  come  upon  us."  Joseph's  heart  was  now  also  moved ; 
he  was  obliged  to  go  aside  and  weep.  Still  he  continues  to  play 
the  part  of  a  severe  and  distrustful  despot.  With  sacks  filled 
but  with  hearts  sorrowing,  the  nine  brothers  return  homewards. 
In  an  inn  by  the  way,  one  of  them  opened  his  sack  to  give  pro- 
vender to  the  beasts,  and  to  his  horror  discovers  his  money  in 
the  sack  ;  for  Josepli  had  given  commandment  to  put  into  their 
sacks  their  money,  along  with  provision  for  the  way.  The  tidings 
of  what  they  had  experienced  fills  their  aged  father  with  sorrow. 
He  bursts  into  bitter  complaints,  and  in  most  decided  terms 
declares  that  he  would  not  send  away  Benjamin,  and  that,  even 
though  Keuben  oifers  the  life  of  his  two  chikben  as  pledge  for 
the  safe  return  of  his  youngest  brother, 

(1.)  The  conduct  of  Joseph  towards  his  brethren  claims 
our  attention.  On  first  meeting  them  he  is  manifestly  unde- 
cided how  to  deal  with  them.  In  proof  of  this  we  refer  to 
the  circumstance  that  he  imprisoned  them  for  three  days  (Gen. 
xlii.  17),  Avhich  could  scarcely  be  explained  on  any  other  supposi- 
tion. During  that  period,  not  only  they  but  he  also  have  time  to 
think  over  matters.  On  this  ground  also,  we  account  for  the 
change  in  liis  first  resolution  which  had  borne  that  only  one  of 
them  should  return  to  bring  back  Benjamin,  while  the  others 
should  remain  as  hostages,  but  which  now  is  modified.  Fi'om 
that  moment  he  has  also  made  up  his  mind  about  his  future  con- 
duct towards  them,  and,  notwithstanding  the  apparent  repen- 
tance of  his  l)rothers,  which  might  have  induced  liim  to  stop 
short,  he  carries  out  his  plan  with  energy  and  consistency.  Nor 
can  we  feel  any  difficulty  in  understanding  Joseph's  peculiar 
state  of  mind.  He  had  been  deeply  oftended  by  his  brethi'en, 
and  treated  by  them  with  harshness  and  cruelty.  All  this  may 
have  left  a  sting  in  his  soul,  so  that  his  thoughts,  which  mean- 
while accused  or  excused,  now  led  him  to  feelings  of  vengeance 
and  of  anger,  then  again  inclined  him  to  mildness,  forgiveness, 
and  love.  On  the  other  hand  he  recognises  that  God  had  not 
only  called  him  to  be  the  governor  and  deliverer  of  Egypt,  but 
thereby  also  to  become  the  chief  and  the  help  of  his  family.  He 
realises  that  he  now  meets  his  brethren  as  it  were  in  the  place  of 
God,  and  this  circumstance  imposes  on  him  the  duty  of  exercis- 
ing both  judicial  strictness,  forgiving  mercy,  and  helping  wisdom. 
Above  all,  it  is  of  importance  for  him  to  ascertain  the  relation 


JOSEPH  AND  HIS  BRETHREN.    (§  89.)  373 

between  their  present  state  of  mind  anil  that  which  had  been 
manifested  towards  him  twenty  years  before,  as  on  this  fact 
both  his  subjective  and  his  objective  position  towards  them 
must  depend.  If  they  were  still  the  same  as  twenty  years 
ago,  til  en,  neither  in  his  personal  nor  in  his  political  and  offi- 
cial relation,  could  he  cherish  towards  them  that  confidence, 
sincerity,  and  openness  which  was  requisite  for  the  prosperous 
development  of  their  family.  He  clearly  and  unhesitatingly 
perceived  that  it  would  have  been  altogether  wrong  to  have 
allowed  his  natural  kindness  to  carry  him  away  into  an  affec- 
tionate recognition,  without  having  first  laid  the  necessary  basis 
by  applpng  inquisitorial  strictness  and  judicial  severity.  At  the ' 
sametime,  we  do  not  deny  that  he  thus  acted  not  merely  in  the 
exercise  of  calm  prudence,  but  that  his  affection  had  not  yet 
attained  perfect  purity,  nor  had  he  reached  that  state  of  mind 
in  which  he  could  unconditionally  extend  to  them  a  corchal  for- 
giveness. Is  it  not  so  that  merely  human  elements  too  frequently 
and  readily  mingle  in  our  holiest  impulses  and  resolutions  ? 
And  can  we  therefore  not  understand  that  when,  in  the  circum- 
stances of  Joseph,  a  holy  wisdom  required  a  certain  measure  of 
severity,  some  amount  of  vindictiveness,  some  latent  satisfaction 
at  their  humiliation,  or  some  such  feeling,  may  have  mingled 
with  it  ? 

Their  hardness  of  heart  had  appeared  twenty  years  ago,  in 
their  want  of  affection  towards  their  aged  father,  and  in  their 
cruelty  towards  the  favourite  son  of  Eachel.  Now  Benjamin 
occupied  the  place  of  Joseph.  Hence,  the  probation  through 
which  thoy  have  to  pass  will  consist  in  a  trial  whether,  as 
formerly,  tiiey  would  still  be  capable,  for  the  sake  of  their  own 
interest,  to  bring  sutiering  and  woe  upon  theh  father,  and  to 
give  up  Benjamin,  as  formerly  they  had  disposed  of  Joseph. 
To  prepare  the  way  for  this  probation,  he  accuses  them  of  being 
spies,  as  this  charge  obliges  them,  for  their  vindication,  to  ex- 
plain all  their  family  relations,  wliicli  alone  could  efiectually 
remove  any  such  suspicion. 

But  the  demand  to  bring  Benjamin  converts  the  well-deserved 
punishment  of  his  guilty  brothers  into  an  undeserved  rigour  and 
apparent  unkindness  towards  his  aged  and  aftticted  father,  and 
toward  the  poor  innocent  youth  who  was  the  son  of  his  own 
mother.  We  may  well  ask,  therefore,  how  Joseph,  whose  heart 
was  so  soft  and  tender,  could  possibly  have  brought  himself  to 
occasion  such  pain  iuid  anxiety — at  least  for  a  season — to  his 
father  and  to  his  In-other.  Without  doubt,  Joseph  felt  concerned 
for  his  father.  This  appears  even  in  the  change  of  his  first 
resolution,  as  it  was  certainly  from  regard  for  his  father  that  he 
allows  his  nine  brethren  to  depart,  retaining  only  one  of  them. 
He  must  have  felt  it  a  great  trial  to  be  obliged  to  invoh-e  liis 


374  JACOB.   (§  89.) 

father  also  in  this  probation  and  punishment  of  his  brothers. 
But  the  good  of  his  whole  family,  which  depended  on  this  pro- 
bation, would  appear  to  him  of  greater  importance  than  a  few 
days  or  even  weeks  of  anxious  concern  which  at  any  rate  were  so 
soon  and  so  richly  to  be  compensated. 

Perhaps  some  may  think  that  the  penitent  confession  of  the 
brethren  (vv.  21,  &c.)  might  have  sufficed  in  the  way  of  proba- 
tion, and  as  evidence  of  their  change  of  mind.  That  Joseph 
felt  the  value  of  this  confession  is  shewn  by  the  manner  in  which 
it  affected  him,  to  a  degree  that  he  was  obliged  to  retire,  in  order 
to  conceal  his  tears.  If  he  had  still  cherished  any  anger  or 
similar  feeling  towards  them,  these  tears  must  have  washed  it 
away  ;  and  when  he,  therefore,  still  continues  in  a  path  which 
must  have  been  so  difficult  for  him,  he  no  doubt  had  sufficient 
reasons  for  inferring  that  their  confession  was  only  the  com- 
mencement, not  the  completion  of  their  repentance.  Above  all, 
it  was  important  to  ascertain  that  their  penitence  could  stand  the 
test  of  a  conflict  between  their  own  interests  and  those  of  Ben- 
jamin. Nor  should  we  omit  to  notice  the  significant  and  com- 
forting hint,  contained  in  the  words  of  Joseph  in  verse  18  :  "  This 
do  and  live, /or  I  fear  God." 

Tucli  (1.  c,  p.  525)  is  astonished  that  Joseph  should  himself 
sell  the  corn,  and,  viewing  every  thing  as  a  myth,  reasons :  "  The 
chief  vizier  himself  must  carry  on  the  sale  of  corn  and  deal  with 
simple  merchants,  in  order  that  he  might  be  brought  into  con- 
tact with  his  brethren,  and  see  his  former  dreams  fulfilled." 
We  are  willing  to  subscribe  to  this  statement  with  this  diifer- 
ence  only,  that  we  trace  all  these  leacUngs  to  the  living  Grod,  and 
not  to  a  mythical  invention.  However,  it  by  no  means  follows, 
that  Joseph  had  in  ordinary  cases  taken  anything  to  do  w^ith  the 
sale  of  corn. 

On  verse  24  the  same  interpreter  remarks  (p.  527)  :  "  Not  to 
interfere  with  the  inviolable  character  of  the  first-born,  Joseph 
retains  not  Reuben  but  Simeon  the  second  son  of  Jacob."  Len- 
gerke  (p.  343)  repeats  this  assertion.  But  neither  of  these 
writers  observes  that  this  interpretation,  which  is  unsuitable, 
whatever  view  we  take  of  the  subject,  runs  more  esj^ecially  con- 
trary to  their  own  mode  of  explaining  it  (the  mythical),  as  chap, 
xlix.  3,  &c.  shews  how  little  regard  "  the  myth  in  Genesis"  pays 
to  the  supposed  inviolable  rights  of  Reuben,  Simeon,  and  Levi. 
No  doubt  Joseph  must  have  had  some  special  reason  for  retain- 
ing Simeon  as  a  hostage.  Probably  he  did  so  because  the  latter 
had  shewn  most  cruelty  on  the  occasion  wlien  Joseph  was  sold — 
a  supposition  this  the  more  likely,  as  the  cruelty,  faithlessness, 
and  selfishness  of  Simeon,  appeared  also  very  prominently  in 
his  conduct  towards  the  inhabitants  of  Sychem. 

Bavmgartcn  remarks  on  the  circiunstance  that  Joseph  had 


JOSEPH  AND  HIS  BRETHREN.    (§  90.)  375 

ordered  that  tlieir  money  should  be  restored  into  the  sacks  of  his 
bretln-en  :  "  He  lecls  it  impossible  to  bargain  wdth  his  father  and 
his  brethren  for  bread."  This  remark  is  perfectly  correct.  But 
we  must  not  forget  that  he  also  intended  to  increase  their  anxiety 
by  leading  them  to  fear  that,  besides  being  accused  of  espying 
the  country,  they  might  now  also  be  charged  with  theft — an 
additional  care  this,  which  might  the  more  readily  humble  their 
hard  hearts. 

Reuben's  offer  of  security  was  scarcely  calculated  to  allay  the 
anxiety  or  to  satisfy  the  mind  of  his  father,  especially  consider- 
ing that  his  abominable  sin  must  have  wholly  de]3rived  him  of 
Jacob's  confidence.  No  doubt  the  offer  proves  a  state  of  mind 
not  very  elevated.  But  we  must  remember  that  it  was  made  in 
the  heat  of  the  moment,  when  excited  by  the  unbending  deter- 
mination of  his  father,  who  threatens  to  surrender  them  and 
their  children  to  imminent  starvation  rather  than  part  with 
Benjamin.  Both  in  chap.  xlii.  v.  36,  and  still  more  clearly  in 
chap,  xliv.,  V.  4?,  Jacob  hints  pretty  plainly  his  suspicion,  that 
they  may  have  been  the  cause  of  Joseph's  death. 

§  90.  (Gen.  xliii.J — The  small  provision  of  corn  was  soon 
consumed,  and  a  second  journey  into  Egypt  became  absolutely 
necessary.  But  Judali  declares,  in  name  of  all  the  rest,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  return  without  Benjamin,  and  he  solemnly 
undertakes  to  guarantee  the  consequences  of  the  proposed  step. 
His  words,  flowing  from  a  warm  and  full  heart,  find  their  way 
to  the  heart  of  Jacob,  and  after  a  painful  conflict,  he  consents  to 
the  arrangement.  Laden  with,  po^esents  of  the  best  fruits  of  the 
land,  and  accompanied  by  the  blessing  of  their  father,  all  the 
brothers  undertake  the  difficult  journey  (1.)  The  steward  of 
Joseph's  household  receives  them  kindly ;  he  denies  all  know- 
ledge of  the  money,  which  they  confess  having  found  in  the 
sacks  ;  he  brings  Simeon  to  them,  takes  them  to  the  house  of 
Joseph,"' and  there  jirepares  dinner  for  them.  Joseph  himself 
salutes  them  with  dignified  kindness,  and  affectionately  enquires 
for  their  aged  father,  but  the  sight  of  Benjamin  moves  his  heart 
so  deeply  that  he  is  obliged  to  go  aside,  in  order  to  conceal  his 
tears.  He  again  returns  to  dine  with  them,  but  according  to 
Egy|3tian  custom,  he  sits  down  at  a  separate  table.  Benjamin 
is  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  receiving  a  five-fold  portion, 
while  his  brothers  are  astonished  to  find  that  Joseph's  steward 
had  assigned  them  places  exactly  according  to  their  age.     The 


376  JACOB.  (§  90.) 

Ivindly  treatment  which  they  receive  soon  banishes  every  fear, 
and  they  give  themselves  up  to  the  enjoyment,  occasioned  by  the 
feast  before  them,  and  by  the  engaging  manner  of  their  host. 
But  they  are  yet  to  pass  through  another,  the  last  and  most 
difficult  ordeal.  Next  morning  their  sacks  having  been  filled, 
they  turn  homewards  full  of  joy  at  the  unexpected  happy  termi- 
nation of  this  matter.  But  scarcely  had  they  left  the  city  when 
the  steward  of  Joseph's  house  overtakes  them,  and  in  harsh 
language  charges  them  with  having  stolen  the  silver  cup  of  his 
master.  An  investigation  shews  that  the  ten  elder  brothers 
were  innocent  of  the  crime,  but  when  at  last  the  sack  of  Ben- 
jamin is  opened,  the  missing  cup  is  found  in  it.  Horror-struck 
at  the  discovery,  the  brothers  rend  their  garments.  Upon  tliis 
the  steward  declares  that  Benjamin  must  remain  behind  as  a 
slave,  while  the  others  were  at  liberty  to  return  in  peace  to  their 
home.  But  the  brothers  are  now  no  longer  the  same  selfish 
men  as  they  had  been  twenty  years  before.  They  refuse  the 
liberty  offered  to  them,  declare  their  resolution  to  share  Benja- 
min's fate  and  return  into  the  city,  resolved  rather  to  become 
slaves  with  Benjamin  than  to  return  without  him  to  their 
father  (3.) 

(1.)  The  GUARANTEE  which  Judali  undertakes  is  totally  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  Reuben  in  chap.  xlii.  37.  He  says:  "  I  will 
be  surety  for  him  ;  of  my  hand  shalt  thou  require  him  :  if  I  bring 
him  not  unto  thee,  and  set  him  before  thee,  then  let  me  bear  the 
blame  for  ever."  His  words  give  evidence  not  only  of  sincerity 
and  cordiality,  but  also  of  firmness  and  confidence  ;  and  hence 
they  remain  not  without  effect.  It  also  here  appears  that,  among 
all  his  sons,  Jacob  placed  most  confidence  in  Judah,  and  this 
adds  another  confirmation  to  the  suggestion  which  we  have  made 
%<^  in  §  4ft,  to  the  effect  that  some  decided  change  had  taken  place 
in  the  life  of  Judah,  in  consequence  of  which  his  former  isola- 
tion from  the  concerns  of  his  family  had  been  succeeded  by  a 
totally  different  state  of  mind. 

V.  Bohlen  attempts  to  establish  a  contradiction  between  the 
statement  that  for  two  or  three  years  Palestine  had  been  visited 
with  dearth,  and  the  circumstance  that  Jacob  could  send  to 
Egypt  rich  presents  of  the  best  fruits  in  the  land  (balm,  grapes, 
honey,  spices,  myrrh,  nuts,  and  almonds.)  But  only  the  cereal 
products  of  the  land  had  suffered.  And  as  it  is  well  known  that 
fertility  in  fruit  trees  does  not  depend  on  the  same  circumstances 


JOSEfH  AND  HIS  BRETHREN,    (§  i)U.)  377 

US  tbat  of  grain  crops,  we  can  readily  conceive  how,  along-  with 
scarcity  of  corn,  there  should  have  been  at  least  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  such  fruits.  But  however  small  the  yield  of  such 
fruits  might  have  been,  considering  that  they  were  articles  of 
luxury,  and  therefore  of  commerce,  rathei'  than  necessaries  foi" 
conmion  and  every-day  use,  the  only  consequence  of  such  a  scar- 
city woidd  have  been  that  they  would  have  ceased  for  the  time 
to  be  articles  of  trade.  This  could  only  have  increased  their 
value,  and  rendered  them  the  more  acceptable  as  presents  to  a 
noble  Egyi)tian,  who,  whatever  abundance  he  may  have  enjoyed 
in  other  respects,  might  have  felt  the  want  of  these  luxm-ics. 

(2.)  Joseph  dines  at  his  oton  table,  separate  both  from  the 
foreign  shepherds  and  from  the  inferior  classes  of  Egyptians. 
This  perfectly  agTees  with  the  manners  of  Egj^jt  (comp.  Uencj- 
stenherg,  1.  c,  p.  35,  &c.)  On  the  one  hand,  this  was  necessary, 
considering  his  position  as  Minister  of  Htate  and  member  of  the 
caste  of  priests  ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  would  as  yet  deport  him- 
self towards  his  brethren  only  with  the  dignified  condescension 
becoming  a  high  Egyptian  official. 

That  the  brethren  of  Josej^h  were  seated  according  to  their 
age  must  have  increased  tlie  mystery  which  they  felt  hanging 
about  their  relation  to  him.  It  must  have  made  the  impression 
on  them,  that  the  man  on  whom  their  life  and  happiness  de- 
pended was  surrounded  with  a  halo  of  more  than  human  know- 
ledge ;  that  he  coidd  penetrate  into  the  most  intimate  relations 
and  circmnstances  of  their  fomily-life.  Hence  this  arrangement 
became  a  suitable  psychological  means  for  the  further  develop- 
ment of  their  history. 

But  the  remarkable  distinction  bestowed  on  Benjamin  must 
have  appeared  to  them  even  more  strange  and  important.  \\\ 
the  family  of  liis  father,  Benjamin  occupied  the  position  of  Josepli, 
and  it  was  soon  to  appear  whether  the  want  of  affection  which 
had  characterised  their  conduct  towards  Joseph  would  also 
cliaracterise  that  towards  Benjamin.  For  the  circumstance  that 
Benjamin  received  a  fivefold  portion  forms  quite  a  parallel  to  the 
peculiar  dress  by  whicli  the  affection  of  his  father  had  distin- 
guished Joseph.  At  that  time,  only  emy,  hatred,  and  vengeance 
had  been  the  consequences  of  this  distinction ;  it  was  now  to 
appear  whether  the  same  would  result  in  the  case  of  Benjamin. 

(3.)  Modern  interpreters  have  rightly  referred  the  expression 
of  the  steward,  when  he  accuses  Joseph's  brethren  of  having 
stolen  his  silver  cwp  ("  Is  not  this  it  in  which  my  Lord  drinlvctli, 
and  whereby  indeed  he  divineth  T  chap.  xliv.  5),  as  referring  to 
practices  common  throughout  anticjuity  and  especially  in  Eg}q)i, 
and  which  arc  continued  even  in  our  days  (comp.  Wiseman's 
Connection,  p.  400,  &c.  ;  Hdvernick,  Introd.  vol.  i.  2,  p.  393 , 
"    VOL  I.  2  b 


378  JACOB.  (§  90.) 

Hengstenherg ,  1.  c,  p.  36,  &c).  Larsoio  proposes  indeed  to 
translate  (Gen.  p.  115),  "Is  not  tliis  it  from  which  my  Lord 
drinketh  ?  and  should  he  not  therefore  have  divined  it  ?"  But 
this  rendering  is  equally  opposed  to  grammar  and  context. 
However,  this  passage  by  no  means  decides  the  question  whether 
Joseph  had  actually  made  use  of  the  cup  for  such  purposes,  or 
whether  the  statement  merely  served  as  a  pretext.  If  we  hear 
in  mind  the  peculiar  relation  of  Joseph  and  that  of  his  age,  with 
reference  to  the  kingdom  of  God  generally,  we  shall  perhaps  not 
find  it  quite  impossible  to  adopt  even  the  former  of  these  sup- 
positions. But  Averse  15  must  decide  us  in  favour  of  the  second 
supposition,  as  Joseph  himself  there  states,  "Wot  ye  not  that 
such  a  man  as  I  can  certainly  divine  ?"  {i.e.  ascertain  by  divina- 
tion where  the  cup  Avas.)  Manifestly  the  cup  could  not  have  been 
the  object  of  the  divination  above  referred  to.  At  any  rate  the 
steward  speaks  of  the  cup  as  an  instrument  of  divination  only  in 
order  to  increase  its  value  in  the  eyes  of  Joseph's  brethren. 

The  conduct  of  Joseph's  brethren  luhen  the  cup  is  discovered 
hi  the  sack  of  Benjamin  shews  beyond  doubt  that  a  complete 
change  had  taken  place  in  their  disposition.     We  feel  that  if 
they  had  been  still  capable  of  their  former  cold,  calculating 
selfishness,  all  circumstances  had  now  combined  to  provoke  such, 
and  to  shake  their  love,  attachment,  care,  and  fidehty  towards  Ben- 
jamin.    In  their  father's  house  he  had  in  the  most  evident  and 
(for  them)  humiliating  manner  been  i^referred  to  them.     With 
his  whole  heart  the  old  man  had  clung  to  him,  and  in  his  un- 
bounded tenderness  even  gone  so  far  as  rather  to  expose  his 
whole  house,  and  all  his  children  and  grand-cliildi'en,  to  inevit- 
able death  by  famine,  than  give  up  his  anxious  and  apparently 
ungrounded  care  for  the  favourite,  sluitting  his  mind  against  all 
entreaties  and  even  to  reflection.     The  same  preference  of  the 
youngest  child  is  shewn  at  the  court  of  Egypt.     The  Grand- 
vizier  seems  only  to  pay  attention  to  Benjamin.     He  deals  almost 
exclusively  with  him,  and  distinguishes  him  by  ordering  for  him 
a  fivefold  portion.     And  now  when  apparently  they  had  escaped 
all  dangers,  the  fated  youth  round  whose  person  mischief  and 
destruction  to  themselves  and  their  families  seems  to  gather, 
once  more  precipitates  them  into  circumstances  more  tln-eatening 
than  any  which  had  yet  taken  place,  and  of  which  it  was  impos- 
sible to  foresee  the  issue.     On  his  account  the  charge  of  robbery 
now  rests  upon  them  and  their  father's  house.      Is  there  not 
sufficient  ground  in  aU  this  to  be  angry  with  him,  and  even 
though,  despite  of  appearances,  they  themselves  might  have  re- 
tained the  moral  conviction  of  his  innocence,  rather  to  abandon 
him  in  order  to  get  rid  of  that  fatality  which  seemed  to  attach 
to  his  person  than  to  continue  connecting  their  own  fate  with 


JOSEPH  AIJD  HIS  BRETHREN.    (§  90,  91.)  379 

his,  and  thus  to  share  in  the  eyes  of  the  Egyptians  his  disgrace 
and  his  guilt?  How  great  must  have  been  the  temptation, 
since,  contrary  to  what  miglit  have  been  expected,  the  steward 
offered  them  full  liberty,  and  only  wished  to  retain  for  punish- 
ment the  one  guilty  person?  When  first  the  steward  had 
brought  the  charge  they  liad  in  righteous  indignation  declared : 
"  With  whomsoever  of  thy  servants  it  be  found,  both  let  him 
die,  and  we  also  will  be  my  lord's  bondmen."  But  now  they 
make  no  further  distinction  between  the  guilty  and  the  innocent ; 
tliey  are  weighed  down  by  a  sense  of  a  common  great  guilt  resting 
upon  them  aU ;  they  look  away  from  him  through  whom  this 
trial  had  come  upon  them,  and  in  their  own  sin  they  recognise 
the  ultimate  and  real  cause  of  tliis  dispensation.  But  even  yet 
the  trial  is  not  finished,  for  they  are  to  be  thoroughly  proved  and 
approved.  The  penitent  confession  of  their  common  guilt,  which 
now  affected  their  hearts,  Tiad  to  he  puhlicly  made,  and  that  even 
before  the  dreaded  Egyptian  lord.  In  their  bearing  towards  the 
subordinate  steward  they  have  been  enabled  to  overcome  the 
temptation  to  escape  by  surrendering  Benjamin.  But  the  trial 
through  which  they  had  yet  to  pass  when  they  were  to  hear  the 
final  sentence  from  the  mouth  of  Joseph  himself  was  still  more 
severe  ;  it  would  have  been  possible  that  they  who  had  overcome 
in  the  first  instance  might  succumb  before  what  they  must  have 
felt  to  be  an  ultimate  decision. 
>  w 
§  91.  (Gen.  xliv._^and  xlv.) — Joseph's  brethren  fall  before  him 
on  the  ground,  but  he  receives  them  wdth  severity  and  reproof. 
Judah  now  expresses,  in  the  name  of  the  rest,  their  conunon 
feelings  :  "  What  shall  we  say  unto  my  Lord  ?  What  shall  we 
speak  ?  or  how  shall  we  clear  ourselves  ?  God  hath  found  out 
the  iniquity  of  thy  servants.  Behold,  we  are  my  Lord's  servants, 
both  we  and  he  also  with  whom  the  cup  is  found."  To  this 
Josei)h  coldly  and  definitely  replies  that  he  only  intended  to 
retain  as  slave  him  that  had  been  guilty — the  others  might 
return  to  their  father.  In  mute  despair  all  the  brothers  remain 
prostrate  on  the  ground  ;  only  Judah,  equally  bold  and  hiunble, 
ventures  to  come  near  to  the  severe  ruler  of  Egypt.  His  heart, 
full  of  love  and  sorrow,  of  repentance  and  grief,  finds  vent  in 
speech,  which,  like  a  pent-up  stream,  breaks  through  the  dam — 
artless  and  simple,  but  impressive  and  convincing,  eloquent  and 
irresistible,  as  scarce  speech  had  ever  flowed  from  man's  lips. 
The  vividness  of  his  description  is  inimitable.  Rapidly  he 
relates  the  state  of  matters  ;  he  describes  the  attachment  Mith 


380  JACOB.   (§91.) 

which  his  father  cleaves  to  the  youth,  the  anxious  care  with 
wliich  he  had  dismissed  him,  and  the  wretchedness  tlu'oug-h 
which,  in  consequence  of  his  loss,  his  grey  liairs  would  go  down 
to  the  grave  with  sorrow.  Then  he  adds  that  liimself  had 
become  surety  for  the  lad,  and  entreats  to  allow  him  to  remain 
as  slave  in  his  room.  Joseph  coidd  now  no  longer  restrain  him- 
Belf.  fie  removed  all  the  Egyptians  who  were  present,  and, 
bursting  into  tears,  he  exclaims :  "I  am  Joseph !  doth  my 
father  yet  live  ?"  As  rooted  to  the  ground,  his  brothers  stand 
before  him,  but  Joseph  affectionately  comforts  and  encourages 
them :  "  I  am  Joseph  your  hrothey-.  Come  near  to  me  I  Be  not 
gi'ieved,  nor  think  with  yourselves  that  I  am  angry  because  ye 
sold  me  hither;  for  God  did  send  me  before  you  to  preserve 
your  life."  And  he  fell  upon  the  neck  of  liis  brother  Benjamin, 
and  embraced  all  his  brethi-en  ;  he  kissed  them  and  wept  upon 
them  ;  but  he  also  enjoined  them  to  haste  with  the  joyous  tidings 
to  their  aged  father,  and  in  the  name  of  Joseph  to  invite  him 
into  Egypt,  since  other  five  years  of  famine  were  to  be  expected. 
He  promises  to  provide  for  them  a  dwelling-place  in  liis  vicinity, 
in  the  land  of  Goshen,  and  there  to  nourish  them.  With  great 
cordiahty  Pharaoh  also  gives  his  consent  to  Joseph's  plan  of 
transporting  his  family  into  Egypt,  and,  laden  with  rich  presents, 
Joseph's  brothers  depart,  carrying  with  them,  by  behest  of 
Pharaoh,  Egyptian  waggons,  to  facilitate  the  removal  of  their 
families  from  Canaan. 

1.  On  the  final  and  the  ivXi  proof  of  the  genuine  repentance 
of  JosejyJis  brethren,  Baumgarten  remarks,  p.  342  :  "  The 
brothers  have  heard  their  sentence  from  the  mouth  of  the 
dread  ruler  of  Egyj^t,  nor  can  they  complain  of  injustice.  If,  in 
their  inmost  heart,  they  had  not  been  resolved  rather  to  suffer 
all  than  to  forsake  Benjamin,  and  to  bring  fresh  sorrow  upon 
their  father,  they  would  now  have  gone  away,  arguing  that  they 
had  done  everything  in  their  power  for  Benjamin.  Had  they 
not  their  wives  and  children  at  home,  and  who  was  to  sustain 
them  if  they  had  remained  as  servants  in  Egypt  ?  Besides, 
what  was  to  become  of  the  whole  house  of  Israel  ?  But  the 
thoughts  and  the  intentions  of  the  sons  of  Jacob  Avere  now  only 
fixed  upon  one  object,  not  to  forsake  Benjamin,  nor  to  gTieve 
their  father — every  other  consideration  seemed  but  secondary. " 

On  the  situation  of  the  land  of  Goshen,  comp.  §  92,  f). 

END  OF  VOL.  I. 


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